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NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


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Form  No  513. 
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feic 


UNIVERSITY  OF  NIC.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


10001986111 


/* 


\(±,lf 


JVLemories    of    Onildnood  s 
Slavery    Days 


Annie     L.     Burton 


3J» 


BOSTON  "V^CMAPtV^' 

ROSS   PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1909 


111  ■       two 


. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://archive.org/details/memoriesofchildhburt 


J) 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A    HAPPY    LIFE 

The  memory  of  my  happy,  care-free  childhood 
days  on  the  plantation,  with  my  little  white  and  black 
companions,  is  often  with  me.  Neither  master  nor 
mistress  nor  neighbors  had  time  to  bestow  a  thought 
upon  us,  for  the  great  Civil  War  was  raging.  That 
great  event  in  American  history  was  a  matter  wholly 
outside  the  realm  of  our  childish  interests.  Of  course 
we  heard  our  elders  discuss  the  various  events  of  the 
great  struggle,  but  it  meant  nothing  to  us. 

On  the  plantation  there  were  ten  white  children 
and  fourteen  colored  children.  Our  days  were  spent 
roaming  about  from  plantation  to  plantation,  not 
knowing  or  caring  what  things  were  going  on  in  the 
great  world  outside  our  little  realm.  Planting  time 
and  harvest  time  were  happy  days  for  us.  How 
often  at  the  harvest  time  the  planters  discovered 
cornstalks  missing  from  the  ends  of  the  rows,  and 
blamed  the  crows !    We  were  called  the  ' '  little  fairy 


MEMORIES  OF  CHILDHOOD'S  SLAVERY  DAYS 

devils."  To  the  sweet  potatoes  and  peanuts  and 
sugar  cane  we  also  helped  ourselves. 

Those  slaves  that  were  not  married  served  the 
food  from  the  great  house,  and  about  half-past 
eleven  they  would  send  the  older  children  with  food 
to  the  workers  in  the  fields.  Of  course,  I  followed, 
and  before  we  got  to  the  fields,  we  had  eaten  the 
food  nearly  all  up.  When  the  workers  returned  home 
they  complained,  and  we  were  whipped. 

The  slaves  got  their  allowance  every  Monday 
night  of  molasses,  meat,  corn  meal,  and  a  kind  of 
flour  called  "  dredgings  "  or  "  shorts."  Perhaps 
this  allowance  would  be  gone  before  the  next  Mon- 
day night,  in  which  case  the  slaves  would  steal  hogs 
and  chickens.  Then  would  come  the  whipping-post. 
Master  himself  never  whipped  his  slaves;  this  was 
left  to  the  overseer. 

We  children  had  no  supper,  and  only  a  little  piece 
of  bread  or  something  of  the  kind  in  the  morning. 
Our  dishes  consisted  of  one  wooden  bowl,  and  oyster 
shells  were  our  spoons.  This  bowl  served  for  about 
fifteen  children,  and  often  the  dogs  and  the  ducks 
and  the  peafowl  had  a  dip  in  it.  Sometimes  we  had 
buttermilk  and  bread  in  our  bowl,  sometimes  greens 
or  bones. 

Our   clothes   were   little   homespun   cotton   slips, 


MEMOBIES  OF  CHILDHOOD'S  SLAVEEY  DAYS 

with  short  sleeves.  I  never  knew  what  shoes  were 
until  I  got  big  enough  to  earn  them  myself. 

If  a  slave  man  and  woman  wished  to  marry,  a 
party  would  be  arranged  some  Saturday  night  among 
the  slaves.  The  marriage  ceremony  consisted  of  the 
pair  jumping  over  a  stick.  If  no  children  were  born 
within  a  year  or  so,  the  wife  was  sold. 

At  New  Year's,  if  there  was  any  debt  or  mortgage 
on  the  plantation,  the  extra  slaves  were  taken  to 
Clayton  and  sold  at  the  court  house.  In  this  way 
families  were  separated. 

When  they  were  getting  recruits  for  the  war,  we 
were  allowed  to  go  to  Clayton  to  see  the  soldiers. 

I  remember,  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  two  col- 
ored men  were  hung  in  Clayton;  one,  Caesar  King, 
for  killing  a  blood  hound  and  biting  off  an  overseer's 
ear;  the  other,  Dabney  Madison,  for  the  murder  of 
his  master.  Dabney  Madison's  master  was  really 
shot  by  a  man  named  Houston,  who  was  infatuated 
with  Madison's  mistress,  and  who  had  hired  Madi- 
son to  make  the  bullets  for  him.  Houston  escaped 
after  the  deed,  and  the  blame  fell  on  Dabney  Mad- 
ison, as  he  was  the  only  slave  of  his  master  and 
mistress.  The  clothes  of  the  two  victims  were  hung 
on  two  pine  trees,  and  no  colored  person  would  touch 
them.     Since  I  have   grown  up,   I  have   seen   the 


MEMORIES  OF  CHILDHOOD'S  SLAVERY  DAYS 

skeleton  of  one  of  these  men  in  the  office  of  a  doctor 
in  Clayton. 

After  the  men  were  hung,  the  bones  were  put  in 
an  old  deserted  house.  Somebody  that  cared  for 
the  bones  used  to  put  them  in  the  sun  in  bright 
weather,  and  back  in  the  house  when  it  rained.  Fi- 
nally the  bones  disappeared,  although  the  boxes  that 
had  contained  them  still  remained. 

At  one  time,  when  they  were  building  barns  on 
the  plantation,  one  of  the  big  boys  got  a  little  brandy 
and  gave  us  children  all  a  drink,  enough  to  make  us 
drunk.  Four  doctors  were  sent  for,  but  nobody  could 
tell  what  was  the  matter  with  us,  except  they  thought 
we  had  eaten  something  poisonous.  They  wanted 
to  give  us  some  castor  oil,  but  we  refused  to  take  it, 
because  we  thought  that  the  oil  was  made  from  the 
bones  of  the  dead  men  we  had  seen.  Finally,  we 
told  about  the  big  white  boy  giving  us  the  brandy, 
and  the  mystery  was  cleared  up. 

Young  as  I  was  then,  I  remember  this  conversation 
between  master  and  mistress,  on  master's  return 
from  the  gate  one  day,  when  he  had  received  the  lat- 
est news:  "  William,  what  is  the  news  from  the  seat 
of  war!  "  "A  great  battle  was  fought  at  Bull  Run, 
and  the  Confederates  won,"  he  replied.  "  Oh,  good, 
good,"  said  mistress,  "  and  what  did  Jeff  Davis 


MEMOEIES  OF  CHILDHOOD'S  SLAVERY  DAYS 

say?  "  "  Look  out  for  the  blockade.  I  do  not  know 
what  the  end  may  be  soon,"  he  answered.  "  What 
does  Jeff  Davis  mean  by  that?  "  she  asked.  "  Sarah 
Anne,  I  don't  know,  unless  he  means  that  the  niggers 
will  be  free."  "  0,  my  God,  what  shall  we  do?  " 
"  I  presume,"  he  said,  "  we  shall  have  to  put  our 
boys  to  work  and  hire  help."  "  But,"  she  said, 
"  what  will  the  niggers  do  if  they  are  free?  Why, 
they  will  starve  if  we  don't  keep  them."  "  Oh, 
well,"  he  said,  "  let  them  wander,  if  they  will  not 
stay  with  their  owners.  I  don't  doubt  that  many 
owners  have  been  good  to  their  slaves,  and  they 
would  rather  remain  with  their  owners  than  wander 
about  without  home  or  country." 

My  mistress  often  told  me  that  my  father  was  a 
planter  who  owned  a  plantation  about  two  miles 
from  ours.  He  was  a  white  man,  born  in  Liverpool, 
England.  He  died  in  Lewisville,  Alabama,  in  the 
year  1875. 

I  will  venture  to  say  that  I  only  saw  my  father  a 
dozen  times,  when  I  was  about  four  years  old;  and 
those  times  I  saw  him  only  from  a  distance,  as  he 
was  driving  by  the  great  house  of  our  plantation. 
Whenever  my  mistress  saw  him  going  by,  she  would 
take  me  by  the  hand  and  run  out  upon  the  piazza, 
and  exclaim,  "  Stop  there,  I  say!     Don't  you  want 


MEMOKIES  OF  CHILDHOOD'S  SLAVERY  DAYS 

to  see  and  speak  to  and  caress  your  darling  child? 
She  often  speaks  of  you  and  wants  to  embrace  her 
dear  father.  See  what  a  bright  and  beautiful  daugh- 
ter she  is,  a  perfect  picture  of  yourself.  Well,  I 
declare,  you  are  an  affectionate  father."  I  well 
remember  that  whenever  my  mistress  would  speak 
thus  and  upbraid  him,  he  would  whip  up  his  horse 
and  get  out  of  sight  and  hearing  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible. My  mistress's  action  was,  of  course,  intended 
to  humble  and  shame  my  father.  I  never  spoke  to 
him,  and  cannot  remember  that  he  ever  noticed  me, 
or  in  any  way  acknowledged  me  to  be  his  child. 

My  mother  and  my  mistress  were  children  to- 
gether, and  grew  up  to  be  mothers  together.  My 
mother  was  the  cook  in  my  mistress's  household. 
One  morning  when  master  had  gone  to  Eufaula,  my 
mother  and  my  mistress  got  into  an  argument,  the 
consequence  of  which  was  that  my  mother  was 
whipped,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  Whereupon, 
my  mother  refused  to  do  any  more  work,  and  ran 
away  from  the  plantation.  For  three  years  we  did 
not  see  her  again. 

Our  plantation  was  one  of  several  thousand  acres, 
comprising  large  level  fields,  upland,  and  consider- 
able forests  of  Southern  pine.  Cotton,  corn,  sweet 
potatoes,  sugar  cane,  wheat,  and  rye  were  the  prin- 


MEMORIES  OF  CHILDHOOD'S  SLAVEEY  DAYS 

cipal  crops  raised  on  the  plantation.    It  was  situated 

near  the  P River,  and  about  twenty-three  miles 

from  Clayton,  Ala. 

One  day  my  master  heard  that  the  Yankees  were 
coming  our  way,  and  he  immediately  made  prepara- 
tions to  get  his  goods  and  valuables  out  of  their 
reach.  The  big  six-mule  team  was  brought  to  the 
smoke-house  door,  and  loaded  with  hams  and  pro- 
visions. After  being  loaded,  the  team  was  put  in 
the  care  of  two  of  the  most  trustworthy  and  valuable 
slaves  that  my  master  owned,  and  driven  away.  It 
was  master's  intention  to  have  these  things  taken 
to  a  swamp,  and  there  concealed  in  a  pit  that  had 
recently  been  made  for  the  purpose.  But  just  before 
the  team  left  the  main  road  for  the  by-road  that  led 
to  the  swamp,  the  two  slaves  were  surprised  by  the 
Yankees,  who  at  once  took  possession  of  the  provi- 
sions, and  started  the  team  toward  Clayton,  where 
the  Yankees  had  headquarters.  The  road  to  Clayton 
ran  past  our  plantation.  One  of  the  slave  children 
happened  to  look  up  the  road,  and  saw  the  Yankees 
coming,  and  gave  warning.  Whereupon,  my  master 
left  unceremoniously  for  the  woods,  and  remained 
concealed  there  for  five  days.  The  niggers  had  run 
away  whenever  they  got  a  chance,  but  now  it  was 
master's  and  the  other  white  folks'  turn  to  run. 


MEMOEIES  OF  CHILDHOOD'S  SLAVEKY  DAYS 

The  Yankees  rode  up  to  the  piazza  of  the  great 
house  and  inquired  who  owned  the  plantation.  They 
gave  orders  that  nothing  must  be  touched  or  taken 
away,  as  they  intended  to  return  shortly  and  take 
possession.  My  mistress  and  the  slaves  watched 
for  their  return  day  and  night  for  more  than  a  week, 
but  the  Yankees  did  not  come  back. 

One  morning  in  April,  1865,  my  master  got  the 
news  that  the  Yankees  had  left  Mobile  Bay  and 
crossed  the  Confederate  lines,  and  that  the  Emanci- 
pation Proclamation  had  been  signed  by  President 
Lincoln.  Mistress  suggested  that  the  slaves  should 
not  be  told  of  their  freedom;  but  master  said  he 
would  tell  them,  because  they  would  soon  find  it  out, 
even  if  he  did  not  tell  them.  Mistress,  however,  said 
she  could  keep  my  mother's  three  children,  for  my 
mother  had  now  been  gone  so  long. 

All  the  slaves  left  the  plantation  upon  the  news 
of  their  freedom,  except  those  who  were  feeble  or 
sickly.  With  the  help  of  these,  the  crops  were  gath- 
ered. My  mistress  and  her  daughters  had  to  go  to 
the  kitchen  and  to  the  washtub.  My  little  half- 
brother,  Henry,  and  myself  had  to  gather  chips,  and 
help  all  we  could.  My  sister,  Caroline,  who  was 
twelve  years  old,  could  help  in  the  kitchen. 

After  the  war,  the  Yankees  took  all  the  good  mules 

10 


MEMOEIES  OF  CHILDHOOD'S  SLAVEKY  DAYS 

and  horses  from  the  plantation,  and  left  their  old 
army  stock.  We  children  chanced  to  come  across 
one  of  the  Yankees'  old  horses,  that  had  "  U.  S." 
branded  on  him.  We  called  him  "  Old  Yank  "  and 
got  him  fattened  up.  One  day  in  August,  six  of  us 
children  took  "  Old  Yank  "  and  went  away  back  on 
the  plantation  for  watermelons.  Coming  home,  we 
thought  we  would  make  the  old  horse  trot.  When 
"  Old  Yank  "  commenced  to  trot,  our  big  melons 
dropped  off,  but  we  couldn't  stop  the  horse  for  some 
time.  Finally,  one  of  the  big  boys  went  back  and  got 
some  more  melons,  and  left  us  eating  what  we  could 
find  of  the  ones  that  had  been  dropped.  Then  all  we 
six,  with  our  melons,  got  on  "  Old  Yank  "  and  went 
home.  We  also  used  to  hitch  "  Old  Yank  "  into  a 
wagon  and  get  wood.  But  one  sad  day  in  the  fall, 
the  Yankees  came  back  again,  and  gathered  up  their 
old  stock,  and  took  ' '  Old  Yank  ' '  away. 

One  day  mistress  sent  me  out  to  do  some  churning 
under  a  tree.  I  went  to  sleep  and  jerked  the  churn 
over  on  top  of  me,  and  consequently  got  a  whip- 
ping. 

My  mother  came  for  us  at  the  end  of  the  year 
1865,  and  demanded  that  her  children  be  given  up 
to  her.  This,  mistress  refused  to  do,  and  threatened 
to  set  the  dogs  on  my  mother  if  she  did  not  at  once 

11 


MEMORIES  OF  CHILDHOOD'S  SLAVERY  DAYS 

leave  the  place.  My  mother  went  away,  and  re- 
mained with  some  of  the  neighbors  until  supper 
time.  Then  she  got  a  boy  to  tell  Caroline  to  come 
down  to  the  fence.  When  she  came,  my  mother  told 
her  to  go  back  and  get  Henry  and  myself  and  bring 
us  down  to  the  gap  in  the  fence  as  quick  as  she  could. 
Then  my  mother  took  Henry  in  her  arms,  and  my 
sister  carried  me  on  her  back.  We  climbed  fences 
and  crossed  fields,  and  after  several  hours  came  to  a 
little  hut  which  my  mother  had  secured  on  a  planta- 
tion. We  had  no  more  than  reached  the  place,  and 
made  a  little  fire,  when  master's  two  sons  rode  up 
and  demanded  that  the  children  be  returned.  My 
mother  refused  to  give  us  up.  Upon  her  offering  to 
go  with  them  to  the  Yankee  headquarters  to  find  out 
if  it  were  really  true  that  all  negroes  had  been  made 
free,  the  young  men  left,  and  troubled  us  no  more. 

The  cabin  that  was  now  our  home  was  made  of 
logs.  It  had  one  door,  and  an  opening  in  one  wall, 
with  an  inside  shutter,  was  the  only  window.  The 
door  was  fastened  with  a  latch.  Our  beds  were  some 
straw. 

There  were  six  in  our  little  family;  my  mother, 
Caroline,  Henry,  two  other  children  that  my  mother 
had  brought  with  her  upon  her  return,  and  myself. 

The  man  on  whose  plantation  this  cabin  stood, 

12 


MEMOKIES  OF  THE  DAWN  OF  FKEEDOM 

hired  my  mother  as  cook,  and  gave  us  this  little  home. 
We  children  used  to  sell  blueberries  and  plums  that 
we  picked.  One  day  the  man  on  whom  we  depended 
for  our  home  and  support,  left.  Then  my  mother 
did  washing  by  the  day,  for  whatever  she  could  get. 
We  were  sent  to  get  cold  victuals  from  hotels  and 
such  places.  A  man  wanting  hands  to  pick  cotton, 
my  brother  Henry  and  I  were  set  to  help  in  this 
work.  We  had  to  go  to  the  cotton  field  very  early 
every  morning.  For  this  work,  we  received  forty 
cents  for  every  hundred  pounds  of  cotton  we  picked. 

Caroline  was  hired  out  to  take  care  of  a  baby. 

In  1866,  another  man  hired  the  plantation  on  which 
our  hut  stood,  and  we  moved  into  Clayton,  to  a  little 
house  my  mother  secured  there.  A  rich  lady  came 
to  our  house  one  day,  looking  for  some  one  to  take 
care  of  her  little  daughter.  I  was  taken,  and  adopted 
into  this  family.  This  rich  lady  was  Mrs.  E.  M.  Wil- 
liams, a  music  teacher,  the  wife  of  a  lawyer.  We 
called  her  "  Mis'  Mary." 

Some  rich  people  in  Clayton  who  had  owned  slaves, 
opened  the  Methodist  church  on  Sundays,  and  began 
the  work  of  teaching  the  negroes.  My  new  mistress 
sent  me  to  Sunday  school  every  Sunday  morning, 
and  I  soon  got  so  that  I  could  read.  Mis'  Mary 
taught  me  every  day  at  her  knee.    I  soon  could  read 

13 


MEMORIES  OF  THE  DAWN  OF  FREEDOM 

nicely,  and  went  through  Sterling's  Second  Reader, 
and  then  into  McGuthrie's  Third  Reader.  The  first 
piece  of  poetry  I  recited  in  Sunday  school  was  taught 
to  me  by  Mis'  Mary  during  the  week.  Mis'  Mary's 
father-in-law,  an  ex-judge,  of  Clayton,  Alabama, 
heard  me  recite  it,  and  thought  it  was  wonderful.  It 
was  this: 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  little  bird, 
It  was  your  sweet  song  I  heard. 
What  was  it  I  heard  you  say1? 
Give  me   crumbs  to  eat  today? 
Here  are  crumbs  I  brought  for  you. 
Eat  your  dinner,  eat  away, 
Come  and  see  us  every  day." 

After  this  Mis'  Mary  kept  on  with  my  studies,  and 
taught  me  to  write.  As  I  grew  older,  she  taught  me 
to  cook  and  how  to  do  housework.  During  this  time 
Mis '  Mary  had  given  my  mother  one  dollar  a  month 
in  return  for  my  services ;  now  as  I  grew  up  to  young 
womanhood,  I  thought  I  would  like  a  little  money  of 
my  own.  Accordingly,  Mis'  Mary  began  to  pay  me 
four  dollars  a  month,  besides  giving  me  my  board 
and  clothes.  For  two  summers  she  "  let  me  out  " 
while  she  was  away,  and  I  got  five  dollars  a  month. 

While  I  was  with  Mis '  Mary,  I  had  my  first  sweet- 
heart, one  of  the  young  fellows  who  attended  Sunday 

14 


MEMOEIES  OF  THE  DAWN  OF  FREEDOM 

school  with  me.  Mis'  Mary,  however,  objected  to  the 
young  man's  coming  to  the  house  to  call,  because  she 
did  not  think  I  was  old  enough  to  have  a  sweetheart. 

I  owe  a  great  deal  to  Mis '  Mary  for  her  good  train- 
ing of  me,  in  honesty,  uprightness  and  truthfulness. 
She  told  me  that  when  I  went  out  into  the  world  all 
white  folks  would  not  treat  me  as  she  had,  but  that  I 
must  not  feel  bad  about  it,  but  just  do  what  I  was 
employed  to  do,  and  if  I  wasn't  satisfied,  to  go  else- 
where ;  but  always  to  carry  an  honest  name. 

One  Sunday  when  my  sweetheart  walked  to  the 
gate  with  me,  Mis'  Mary  met  him  and  told  him  she 
thought  I  was  too  young  for  him,  and  that  she  was 
sending  me  to  Sunday  school  to  learn,  not  to  catch 
a  beau.  It  was  a  long  while  before  he  could  see  me 
again,  —  not  until  later  in  the  season,  in  watermelon 
time,  when  Mis '  Mary  and  my  mother  gave  me  per- 
mission to  go  to  a  watermelon  party  one  Sunday 
afternoon.  Mis'  Mary  did  not  know,  however,  that 
my  sweetheart  had  planned  to  escort  me.  We  met 
around  the  corner  of  the  house,  and  after  the  party 
he  left  me  at  the  same  place.  After  that  I  saw  him 
occasionally  at  barbecues  and  parties.  I  was  per- 
mitted to  go  with  him  some  evenings  to  church,  but 
my  mother  always  walked  ahead  or  behind  me  and 
the  young  man. 

15 


MEMOKIES  OF  THE  DAWN  OF  FREEDOM 

We  went  together  for  four  years.  During  that 
time,  although  I  still  called  Mis'  Mary's  my  home,  I 
had  been  out  to  service  in  one  or  two  families. 

Finally,  my  mother  and  Mis'  Mary  consented  to 
our  marriage,  and  the  wedding  day  was  to  be  in  May. 
The  winter  before  that  May,  I  went  to  service  in  the 
family  of  Dr.  Drury  in  Eufaula.  Just  a  week  before 
I  left  Clayton  I  dreamed  that  my  sweetheart  died 
suddenly.  The  night  before  I  was  to  leave,  we  were 
invited  out  to  tea.  He  told  me  he  had  bought  a  nice 
piece  of  poplar  wood,  with  which  to  make  a  table  for 
our  new  home.  When  I  told  him  my  dream,  he  said, 
"  Don't  let  that  trouble  you,  there  is  nothing  in 
dreams."  But  one  month  from  that  day  he  died, 
and  his  coffin  was  made  from  the  piece  of  poplar 
wood  he  had  bought  for  the  table. 

After  his  death,  I  remained  in  Clayton  for  two  or 
three  weeks  with  my  people,  and  then  went  back  to 
Eufaula,  where  I  stayed  two  years. 

My  sweetheart's  death  made  a  profound  impres- 
sion on  me,  and  I  began  to  pray  as  best  I  could. 
Often  I  remained  all  night  on  my  knees. 

Going  on  an  excursion  to  Macon,  Georgia,  one 
time,  I  liked  the  place  so  well  that  I  did  not  go  back 
to  Eufaula.  I  got  a  place  as  cook  in  the  family  of 
an  Episcopal  clergyman,  and  remained  with  them 

16 


MEMORIES  OF  THE  DAWN  OE  FREEDOM 

eight  years,  leaving  when  the  family  moved  to  New 
Orleans. 

During  these  eight  years,  my  mother  died  in  Clay- 
ton, and  I  had  to  take  the  three  smallest  children 
into  my  care.  My  oldest  sister  was  now  married, 
and  had  a  son. 

I  now  went  to  live  with  a  Mrs.  Maria  Campbell,  a 
colored  woman,  who  adopted  me  and  gave  me  her 
name.  Mrs.  Campbell  did  washing  and  ironing  for 
her  living.  While  living  with  her,  I  went  six  months 
to  Lewis'  High  School  in  Macon.  Then  I  went  to 
Atlanta,  and  obtained  a  place  as  first-class  cook  with 
Mr.  E.  N.  Inman.  But  I  always  considered  Mrs. 
Campbell 's  my  home.  I  remained  about  a  year  with 
Mr.  Inman,  and  received  as  wages  ten  dollars  a 
month. 

One  day,  when  the  family  were  visiting  in  Mem- 
phis, I  chanced  to  pick  up  a  newspaper,  and  read  the 
advertisement  of  a  Northern  family  for  a  cook  to  go 
to  Boston.  I  went  at  once  to  the  address  given,  and 
made  agreement  to  take  the  place,  but  told  the  people 
that  I  could  not  leave  my  present  position  until  Mr. 
Inman  returned  home.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Inman  did 
not  want  to  let  me  go,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  to  go 
North.  The  Northern  family  whose  service  I  was 
to  enter  had  returned  to  Boston  before  I  left,  and 

17 


MEMOEIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

had  made  arrangements  with  a  friend,  Mr.  Bullock, 
to  see  me  safely  started  North. 

After  deciding  to  go  North,  I  went  to  Macon,  to 
make  arrangements  with  Mrs.  Campbell  for  the  care 
of  my  two  sisters  who  lived  with  her.  One  sister 
was  now  about  thirteen  and  the  other  fifteen,  both 
old  enough  to  do  a  little  for  themselves.  My  brother 
was  dead.  He  went  to  Brunswick  in  1875,  and  died 
there  of  the  yellow  fever  in  1876.  One  sister  I 
brought  in  later  years  to  Boston.  I  stayed  in  Macon 
two  weeks,  and  was  in  Atlanta  three  or  four  days 
before  leaving  for  the  North. 

About  the  15th  of  June,  1879,  I  arrived  at  the  Old 
Colony  Station  in  Boston,  and  had  my  first  glimpse 
of  the  country  I  had  heard  so  much  about.  From 
Boston  I  went  to  Newtonville,  where  I  was  to  work. 
The  gentleman  whose  service  I  was  to  enter,  Mr.  E. 
N.  Kimball,  was  waiting  at  the  station  for  me,  and 
drove  me  to  his  home  on  Warner  Street.  For  a  few 
days,  until  I  got  somewhat  adjusted  to  my  new  cir- 
cumstances, I  had  no  work  to  do.  On  June  17th  the 
family  took  me  with  them  to  Auburndale.  But  in 
spite  of  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  Kimball  and  the  colored 
nurse,  I  grew  very  homesick  for  the  South,  and  would 
often  look  in  the  direction  of  my  old  home  and  cry. 

The  washing,  a  kind  of  work  I  knew  nothing  about, 

18 


MEMORIES  OE  LIFE  IK  THE  NORTH 

was  given  to  me;  but  I  could  not  do  it,  and  it  was 
finally  given  over  to  a  hired  woman.  I  had  to  do  the 
ironing  of  the  fancy  clothing  for  Mrs.  Kimball  and 
the  children. 

About  five  or  six  weeks  after  my  arrival,  Mrs. 
Kimball  and  the  children  went  to  the  White  Moun- 
tains for  the  summer,  and  I  had  more  leisure.  Mr. 
Kimball  went  up  to  the  mountains  every  Saturday 
night,  to  stay  with  his  family  over  Sunday;  but  he 
and  his  father-in-law  were  at  home  other  nights,  and 
I  had  to  have  dinner  for  them. 

To  keep  away  the  homesickness  and  loneliness  as 
much  as  possible,  I  made  acquaintance  with  the  hired 
girl  across  the  street. 

One  morning  I  climbed  up  into  the  cherry  tree  that 
grew  between  Mr.  Kimball 's  yard  and  the  yard  of  his 
next-door  neighbor,  Mr.  Roberts.  I  was  thinking  of 
the  South,  and  as  I  picked  the  cherries,  I  sang  a 
Southern  song.  Mr.  Roberts  heard  me,  and  gave  me 
a  dollar  for  the  song. 

By  agreement,  Mrs.  Kimball  was  to  give  me  three 
dollars  and  a  half  a  week,  instead  of  four,  until  the 
difference  amounted  to  my  fare  from  the  South; 
after  that,  I  was  to  have  four  dollars.  I  had,  how- 
ever, received  but  little  money.  In  the  fall,  after  the 
family  came  home,  we  had  a  little  difficulty  about  my 

19 


MEMOKIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

wages,  and  I  left  and  came  into  Boston.  One  of  my 
Macon  acquaintances  had  come  North  before  me, 
and  now  had  a  position  as  cook  in  a  house  on  Colum- 
bus Avenue.  I  looked  this  girl  up.  Then  I  went  to 
a  lodging-house  for  colored  people  on  Kendall 
Street,  and  spent  one  night  there.  Mrs.  Kimball  had 
refused  to  give  me  a  recommendation,  because  she 
wanted  me  to  stay  with  her,  and  thought  the  lack  of 
a  recommendation  would  be  an  inducement.  In  the 
lodging-house  I  made  acquaintance  with  a  colored 
girl,  who  took  me  to  an  intelligence  office.  The  man 
at  the  desk  said  he  would  give  me  a  card  to  take  to 
24  Springfield  Street,  on  receipt  of  fifty  cents.  I  had 
never  heard  of  an  office  of  this  kind,  and  asked  a 
good  many  questions.  After  being  assured  that  my 
money  would  be  returned  in  case  I  did  not  accept 
the  situation,  I  paid  the  fifty  cents  and  started  to  find 
the  address  on  the  card.  Being  ignorant  of  the 
scheme  of  street  numbering,  I  inquired  of  a  woman 
whom  I  met,  where  No.  24  was.  This  woman  asked 
me  if  I  was  looking  for  work,  and  when  I  told  her  I 
was,  she  said  a  friend  of  hers  on  Springfield  Street 
wanted  a  servant  immediately.  Of  course  I  went 
with  this  lady,  and  after  a  conference  with  the 
mistress  of  the  house  as  to  my  ability,  when  I 
could  begin  work,  what  wages  I  should  want,  etc., 

20 


MEMOEIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NOKTH 

I  was  engaged  as  cook  at  three  dollars  and  a  half 
a  week. 

From  this  place  I  proceeded  to  24  Springfield 
Street,  as  directed,  hoping  that  I  would  be  refused, 
so  that  I  might  go  back  to  the  intelligence  office  and 
get  my  fifty  cents.  The  lady  at  No.  24  who  wanted 
a  servant,  said  she  didn't  think  I  was  large  and 
strong  enough,  and  guessed  I  wouldn't  do.  Then  I 
went  and  got  my  fifty  cents. 

Having  now  obtained  a  situation,  I  sent  to  Mr. 
Kimball's  for  my  trunk.  I  remained  in  my  new 
place  a  year  and  a  half.  At  the  end  of  that  time  the 
family  moved  to  Dorchester,  and  because  I  did  not 
care  to  go  out  there,  I  left  their  service. 

From  this  place,  I  went  to  Narragansett  Pier  to 
work  as  a  chambermaid  for  the  summer.  In  the  fallr 
I  came  back  to  Boston  and  obtained  a  situation  with 
a  family,  in  Berwick  Park.  This  family  afterward 
moved  to  Jamaica  Plain,  and  I  went  with  them. 
With  this  family  I  remained  seven  years.  They  were 
very  kind  to  me,  gave  me  two  or  three  weeks'  vaca- 
tion, without  loss  of  pay. 

In  June,  1884,  I  went  with  them  to  their  summer 
home  in  the  Isles  of  Shoals,  as  housekeeper  for  some 
guests  who  were  coming  from  Paris.  On  the  6th  of 
July  I  received  word  that  my  sister  Caroline  had 

21 


MEMORIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

died  in  June.  This  was  a  great  blow  to  me.  I  re- 
mained with  the  Reeds  until  they  closed  their  sum- 
mer home,  but  I  was  not  able  to  do  much  work  after 
the  news  of  my  sister's  death. 

I  wrote  home  to  Georgia,  to  the  white  people  who 
owned  the  house  in  which  Caroline  had  lived,  asking 
them  to  take  care  of  her  boy  Lawrence  until  I  should 
come  in  October.  When  we  came  back  to  Jamaica 
Plain  in  the  fall,  I  was  asked  to  decide  what  I  should 
do  in  regard  to  this  boy.  Mrs.  Reed  wanted  me  to 
stay  with  her,  and  promised  to  help  pay  for  the  care 
of  the  boy  in  Georgia.  Of  course,  she  said,  I  could 
not  expect  to  find  positions  if  I  had  a  child  with  me. 
As  an  inducement  to  remain  in  my  present  place 
and  leave  the  boy  in  Georgia,  I  was  promised  provi- 
sion for  my  future  days,  as  long  as  I  should  live.  It 
did  not  take  me  long  to  decide  what  I  should  do.  The 
last  time  I  had  seen  my  sister,  a  little  over  a  year 
before  she  died,  she  had  said,  when  I  was  leaving, 
"  I  don't  expect  ever  to  see  you  again,  but  if  I  die 
I  shall  rest  peacefully  in  my  grave,  because  I  know 
you  will  take  care  of  my  child. ' ' 

I  left  Jamaica  Plain  and  took  a  room  on  Village 
Street  for  the  two  or  three  weeks  until  my  departure 
for  the  South.  During  this  time,  a  lady  came  to  the 
house  to  hire  a  girl  for  her  home  in  Wellesley  Hills 

22 


MEMORIES  OE  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

The  girl  who  was  offered  the  place  would  not  go.  I 
volunteered  to  accept  the  position  temporarily,  and 
went  at  once  to  the  beautiful  farm.  At  the  end  of  a 
week,  a  man  and  his  wife  had  been  engaged,  and  I 
was  to  leave  the  day  after  their  arrival.  These  new 
servants,  however,  spoke  very  little  English,  and  I 
had  to  stay  through  the  next  week  until  the  new  ones 
were  broken  in.  After  leaving  there  I  started  for 
Georgia,  reaching  there  at  the  end  of  five  days,  at 
five  o'clock. 

I  took  a  carriage  and  drove  at  once  to  the  house 
where  Lawrence  was  being  taken  care  of.  He  was 
playing  in  the  yard,  and  when  he  saw  me  leave  the 
carriage  he  ran  and  threw  his  arms  around  my  neck 
and  cried  for  joy.  I  stayed  a  week  in  this  house, 
looking  after  such  things  of  my  sister's  as  had  not 
been  already  stored.  One  day  I  had  a  headache,  and 
was  lying  down  in  the  cook's  room.  Lawrence  was 
in  the  dining-room  with  the  cook's  little  girl,  and  the 
two  got  into  a  quarrel,  in  the  course  of  which  my 
nephew  struck  the  cook's  child.  The  cook,  in  her 
anger,  chased  the  boy  with  a  broom,  and  threatened 
to  give  him  a  good  whipping  at  all  costs.  Hearing 
the  noise,  I  came  out  into  the  yard,  and  when  Law- 
rence saw  me  he  ran  to  me  for  protection.  I  inter- 
ceded for  him,  and  promised  he  should  get  into  no 

23 


MEMOEIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NOKTH 

more  trouble.  We  went  at  once  to  a  neighbor 's  house 
for  the  night.  The  next  day  I  got  a  room  in  the  yard 
of  a  house  belonging  to  some  white  people.  Here  we 
stayed  two  weeks.  The  only  return  I  was  asked  to 
make  for  the  room  was  to  weed  the  garden.  Law- 
rence and  I  dug  out  some  weeds  and  burned  them, 
but  came  so  near  setting  fire  to  the  place  that  we 
were  told  we  need  not  dig  any  more  weeds,  but  that 
we  might  have  the  use  of  the  room  so  long  as  we 
cared  to  stay. 

In  about  a  week  and  a  half  more  we  got  together 
such  things  as  we  wanted  to  keep  and  take  away 
with  us. 

The  last  time  I  saw  my  sister,  I  had  persuaded  her 
to  open  a  bank  account,  and  she  had  done  so,  and 
had  made  small  deposits  from  time  to  time.  When 
I  came  to  look  for  the  bankbook,  I  discovered  that 
her  lodger,  one  Mayfield,  had  taken  it  at  her  death, 
and  nobody  knew  where  it  might  be  now.  I  found 
out  that  Mayfield  had  drawn  thirty  dollars  from  the 
account  for  my  sister's  burial,  and  also  an  unknown 
amount  for  himself.  He  had  done  nothing  for  the 
boy.  I  went  down  to  the  bank,  and  was  told  that 
Mayfield  claimed  to  look  after  my  sister's  burial 
and  her  affairs.  He  had  made  one  Reuben  Bennett, 
who  was  no  relation  and  had  no  interest  in  the  mat- 

24 


MEMORIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

ter,  administrator  for  Lawrence,  until  his  coming 
of  age.  But  Bennett  had  as  yet  done  nothing  for 
him.  The  book  was  in  the  bank,  with  some  of  the 
account  still  undrawn,  how  much  I  did  not  know.  I 
next  went  to  see  a  lawyer,  to  find  out  how  much  it 
would  cost  me  to  get  this  book.  The  lawyer  said 
fifteen  dollars.  I  said  I  would  call  again.  In  the 
meantime,  I  went  to  the  court  house,  and  when  the 
case  on  trial  was  adjourned  I  went  to  the  judge  and 
stated  my  case.  The  judge,  who  was  slightly  ac- 
quainted with  my  sister  and  me,  told  me  to  have 
Reuben  Bennett  in  court  next  morning  at  nine 
o'clock,  and  to  bring  Lawrence  with  me.  When  we 
had  all  assembled  before  the  judge,  he  told  Bennett 
to  take  Lawrence  and  go  to  the  bank  and  get  the 
money  belonging  to  my  sister.  Bennett  went  and  col- 
lected the  money,  some  thirty-five  dollars.  The  boy 
was  then  given  into  my  care  by  the  judge.  For  his 
kindness,  the  judge  would  accept  no  return.  Happy 
at  having  obtained  the  money  so  easily,  we  went  back 
to  our  room,  and  rested  until  our  departure  the  next 
night  for  Jacksonville,  Florida.  I  had  decided  to  go 
to  this  place  for  the  winter,  on  account  of  Lawrence, 
thinking  the  Northern  winter  would  be  too  severe 
for  him. 

My  youngest  sister,  who  had  come  to  Macon  from 

25 


MEMORIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

Atlanta  a  few  days  before  my  arrival,  did  not  hear 
of  Caroline's  death  until  within  a  few  days  of  our 
departure.  This  youngest  sister  decided  to  go  to 
Florida  with  us  for  the  winter. 

Our  trunks  and  baggage  were  taken  to  the  station 
in  a  team.  We  had  a  goodly  supply  of  food,  given 
us  by  our  friends  and  by  the  people  whose  hospitality 
we  had  shared  during  the  latter  part  of  our  stay. 

The  next  morning  we  got  into  Jacksonville.  My 
idea  was  to  get  a  place  as  chambermaid  at  Green 
Cove  Springs,  Florida,  through  the  influence  of  the 
head  waiter  at  a  hotel  there,  whom  I  knew.  After  I 
got  into  Jacksonville  I  changed  my  plans.  I  did  not 
see  how  I  could  move  my  things  any  farther,  and  we 
went  to  a  hotel  for  colored  people,  hired  a  room  for 
two  dollars,  and  boarded  ourselves  on  the  food  which 
had  been  given  us  in  Macon.  This  food  lasted 
about  two  weeks.  Then  I  had  to  buy,  and  my  money 
was  going  every  day,  and  none  coming  in.  I  did  not 
know  what  to  do.  One  night  the  idea  of  keeping  a 
restaurant  came  to  me,  and  I  decided  to  get  a  little 
home  for  the  three  of  us,  and  then  see  what  I  could 
do  in  this  line  of  business.  After  a  long  and  hard 
search,  I  found  a  little  house  of  two  rooms  where  we 
could  live,  and  the  next  day  I  found  a  place  to  start 
my  restaurant.     For  house  furnishings,  we  used  at 

26 


MEMOBIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NOKTH 

first,  to  the  best  advantage  we  could,  the  things  we 
had  brought  from  Macon.  Caroline's  cookstove  had 
been  left  with  my  foster-mother  in  Macon.  After 
hiring  the  room  for  the  restaurant,  I  sent  for  this 
stove,  and  it  arrived  in  a  few  days.  Then  I  went  to 
a  dealer  in  second-hand  furniture  and  got  such  things 
as  were  actually  needed  for  the  house  and  the  restau- 
rant, on  the  condition  that  he  would  take  them  back 
at  a  discount  when  I  got  through  with  them. 

Trade  at  the  restaurant  was  very  good,  and  we 
got  along  nicely.  My  sister  got  a  position  as  nurse 
for  fifteen  dollars  a  month.  One  day  the  cook  from 
a  shipwrecked  vessel  came  to  my  restaurant,  and  in 
return  for  his  board  and  a  bed  in  the  place,  agreed 
to  do  my  cooking.  After  trade  became  good,  I 
changed  my  residence  to  a  house  of  four  rooms,  and 
put  three  cheap  cots  in  each  of  two  of  the  rooms,  and 
let  the  cots  at  a  dollar  a  week  apiece  to  colored  men 
who  worked  nearby  in  hotels.  Lawrence  and  I  did 
the  chamber  work  at  night,  after  the  day's  work  in 
the  restaurant. 

I  introduced  "  Boston  baked  beans  "  into  my  res- 
taurant, much  to  the  amusement  of  the  people  at 
first ;  but  after  they  had  once  eaten  them  it  was  hard 
to  meet  the  demand  for  beans. 

Lawrence,  who  was  now  about  eleven  years  old, 

27 


MEMORIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

was  a  great  help  to  me.  He  took  out  dinners  to  the 
cigarmakers  in  a  factory  nearby. 

At  the  end  of  the  season,  about  four  months,  it 
had  grown  so  hot  that  we  could  stay  in  Jacksonville 
no  longer.  From  my  restaurant  and  my  lodgers  I 
cleared  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars,  which 
I  put  into  the  Jacksonville  bank.  Then  I  took  the  fur- 
niture back  to  the  dealer,  who  fulfilled  his  agreement. 

My  sister  decided  to  go  back  to  Atlanta  when  she 
got  through  with  her  place  as  nurse,  which  would 
not  be  for  some  weeks. 

I  took  seventy-five  dollars  out  of  my  bank  account, 
and  with  Lawrence  went  to  Fernandina.  There  we 
took  train  to  Port  Royal,  S.  C,  then  steamer  to  New 
York.  From  New  York  we  went  to  Brooklyn  for  a 
few  days.  Then  we  went  to  Newport  and  stayed  with 
a  woman  who  kept  a  lodging-house.  I  decided  to  see 
what  I  could  do  in  Newport  by  keeping  a  boarding 
and  lodging-house.  I  hired  a  little  house  and  agreed 
to  pay  nine  dollars  a  month  for  it.  I  left  Lawrence 
with  some  neighbors  while  I  came  to  Boston  and  took 
some  things  out  of  storage.  These  things  I  moved 
into  the  little  house.  But  I  found,  after  paying  one 
month's  rent,  that  the  house  was  not  properly  located 
for  the  business  I  wanted.  I  left,  and  with  Lawrence 
went  to  Narragansett  Pier.     I  got  a  place  there  as 

28 


MEMOKIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

"  runner  "  for  a  laundry;  that  is,  I  was  to  go  to  the 
hotels  and  leave  cards  and  solicit  trade.  Then  Law- 
rence thought  he  would  like  to  help  by  doing  a  little 
work.  One  night  when  I  came  back  from  the  laun- 
dry, I  missed  him.  Nobody  had  seen  him.  All  night 
I  searched  for  him,  but  did  not  find  him.  In  the  early 
morning  I  met  him  coming  home.  He  said  a  man 
who  kept  a  bowling  alley  had  hired  him  at  fifty  cents 
a  week  to  set  up  the  pins,  and  it  was  in  the  bowling 
alley  he  had  been  all  night.  He  said  the  man  let  him 
take  a  nap  on  his  coat  when  he  got  sleepy.  I  went 
at  once  to  see  this  man,  and  told  him  not  to  hire  my 
nephew  again.  A  lady  who  kept  a  hotel  offered  me 
two  dollars  a  week  for  Lawrence's  services  in  help- 
ing the  cook  and  serving  in  the  help's  dining-room. 
When  the  season  closed,  the  lady  who  hired  Law- 
rence was  very  reluctant  to  let  him  go. 

We  went  back  to  Newport  to  see  the  landlady 
from  whom  I  had  hired  the  house,  and  I  paid  such 
part  of  the  rent  as  I  could.  Then  I  packed  my  things 
and  started  for  Boston.  On  reaching  there,  I  kept 
such  of  my  things  as  I  needed,  and  stored  the  rest, 
and  took  a  furnished  room.  In  about  a  week's  time 
I  went  to  see  the  husband  of  the  lady  for  whom  I  had 
worked  at  Wellesley  Hills  just  previous  to  my  depar- 
ture for  the  South.    He  had  told  me  to  let  him  know 

29 


MEMOEIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

when  I  returned  to  Boston.  He  said  a  man  and  his 
wife  were  at  present  employed  at  his  farm,  but  he 
didn't  know  how  long  they  would  stay.  Before  an- 
other week  had  passed,  this  gentleman  sent  for  me. 
He  said  his  wife  wanted  me  to  go  out  to  the  farm, 
and  that  I  could  have  Lawrence  with  me.  The  boy, 
he  said,  could  help  his  wife  with  the  poultry,  and 
could  have  a  chance  to  go  to  school.  I  was  promised 
three  dollars  and  a  half  a  week,  and  no  washing  to 
do.  I  was  told  that  the  farm  had  been  offered  for 
sale,  and  of  course  it  might  change  hands  any  day. 
I  was  promised,  however,  that  I  should  lose  nothing 
by  the  change. 

Lawrence  was  very  lonely  at  the  farm,  with  no 
companions,  and  used  to  sit  and  cry. 

The  place  was  sold  about  ten  weeks  after  I  went 
there,  and  I  came  into  Boston  to  look  about  for  a 
restaurant,  leaving  Lawrence  at  the  farm.  When 
the  home  was  broken  up,  the  owners  came  to  the 
Revere  House,  Boston.  Barrels  of  apples,  potatoes 
and  other  provisions  were  given  to  me. 

I  found  a  little  restaurant  near  the  Providence 
depot  for  sale.  I  made  arrangements  at  once  to 
buy  the  place  for  thirty-five  dollars,  and  the  next 
day  I  brought  Lawrence  and  my  things  from  Welles- 
ley  Hills.    I  paid  two  dollars  a  week  rent  for  my  little 

30 


MEMORIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

restaurant,  and  did  very  well.  The  next  spring  I 
sold  the  place  for  fifty  dollars,  in  time  to  get  a  place 
at  the  beach  for  the  summer. 

Lawrence  got  a  position  in  a  drug  store,  and  kept 
it  four  years.  Then  he  went  to  Hampton  College, 
Hampton,  Va.  After  finishing  there,  he  came  back 
and  then  went  to  the  World's  Fair  in  Chicago.  After 
that  he  took  a  position  on  one  of  the  Fall  River 
line  boats.  At  the  outbreak  of  the  Spanish  War, 
he  enlisted  in  Brooklyn  as  powderman  on  the  bat- 
tleship Texas.  He  was  on  the  Texas  when  the  first 
shot  was  fired.  He  was  present  at  the  decoration 
of  the  graves  of  the  American  soldiers  in  Havana, 
and  also  at  the  decoration  of  the  battleship  Maine 
after  she  was  raised.  After  the  war,  he  came  to 
Brooklyn  and  got  an  honorable  discharge.  Then 
he  served  as  valet  to  a  rich  New  York  man,  who 
travelled  a  good  deal.  About  the  middle  of  last 
November  (1906)  Lawrence  came  to  Boston  to  see 
me.  He  is  now  in  Atlantic  City,  a  waiter  in  the 
Royal  Hotel. 

In  1888,  I  was  married,  at  27  Pemberton  Street, 
to  Samuel  H.  Burton,  by  Dr.  0.  P.  Gifford.  After 
my  marriage,  Mr.  Burton  got  a  place  in  Braintree 
as  valet  to  an  old  gentleman  who  was  slightly  de- 
mented, and  he  could  not  be  satisfied  until  I  joined 

31 


MEMORIES  OE  LIFE  IN  THE  NORTH 

him.  So  I  put  our  things  into  storage  and  went  to 
Braintree.  I  remained  there  ten  months,  and  then 
came  back  to  Boston.  Then  I  got  a  position  as  head 
matron  in  the  help 's  dining-room  in  a  hotel  at  Watch 
Hill,  R.  I.  My  husband  was  also  there  as  waiter.  At 
the  end  of  the  season  we  both  came  home,  and  rented 
a  lodging-house,  and  lost  money  on  it. 


32 


REMINISCENCES 


.£    <£    REMINISCENCES   <£    <£ 

The  times  changed  from  slavery  days  to  freedom's 
days.  As  young  as  I  was,  my  thoughts  were  mysti- 
fied to  see  such  wonderful  changes;  yet  I  did  not 
know  the  meaning  of  these  changing  days.  But  days 
glided  by,  and  in  my  mystified  way  I  could  see  and 
hear  many  strange  things.  I  would  see  my  master 
and  mistress  in  close  conversation  and  they  seemed 
anxious  about  something  that  I,  a  child,  could  not 
know  the  meaning  of. 

But  as  weeks  went  by,  I  began  to  understand.  I 
saw  all  the  slaves  one  by  one  disappearing  from  the 
plantation  (for  night  and  day  they  kept  going)  until 
there  was  not  one  to  be  seen. 

All  around  the  plantation  was  left  barren.  Day 
after  day  I  could  run  down  to  the  gate  and  see  down 
the  road  troops  and  troops  of  Garrison's  Brigade, 
and  in  the  midst  of  them  gangs  and  gangs  of  negro 
slaves  who  joined  with  the  soldiers,  shouting,  danc- 
ing and  clapping  their  hands.  The  war  was  ended, 
and  from  Mobile  Bay  to  Clayton,  Ala.,  all  along  the 

35 


KEMINISCENCES 


road,  on  all  the  plantations,  the  slaves  thought  that 
if  they  joined  the  Yankee  soldiers  they  would  be  per- 
fectly safe. 

As  I  looked  on  these  I  did  not  know  what  it  meant, 
for  I  had  never  seen  such  a  circus.  The  Yankee  sol- 
diers found  that  they  had  such  an  army  of  men  and 
women  and  children,  that  they  had  to  build  tents  and 
feed  them  to  keep  them  from  starving.  But  from 
what  I,  a  little  child,  saw  and  heard  the  older  ones 
say,  that  must  have  been  a  terrible  time  of  trouble. 
I  heard  my  master  and  mistress  talking.  They  said, 
' '  Well,  I  guess  those  Yankees  had  such  a  large  fam- 
ily on  their  hands,  we  rather  guessed  those  fanatics 
on  freedom  would  be  only  too  glad  to  send  some  back 
for  their  old  masters  to  provide  for  them." 

But  they  never  came  back  to  our  plantation,  and 
I  could  only  speak  of  my  own  home,  but  I  thought 
to  myself,  what  would  become  of  my  good  times  all 
over  the  old  plantation.  Oh,  the  harvesting  times, 
the  great  hog-killing  times  when  several  hundred 
hogs  were  killed,  and  we  children  watched  and  got 
our  share  of  the  slaughter  in  pig's  liver  roasted  on 
a  bed  of  coals,  eaten  ashes  and  all.  Then  came  the 
great  sugar-cane  grinding  time,  when  they  were 
making  the  molasses,  and  we  children  would  be  hang- 
ing round,  drinking  the  sugar-cane  juice,  and  await- 

36 


REMINISCENCES 


ing  the  moment  to  help  ourselves  to  everything  good. 
We  did,  too,  making  ourselves  sticky  and  dirty  with 
the  sweet  stuff  being  made.  Not  only  were  the  slave 
children  there,  but  the  little  white  children  from 
Massa's  house  would  join  us  and  have  a  jolly  time. 
The  negro  child  and  the  white  child  knew  not  the 
great  chasm  between  their  lives,  only  that  they  had 
dainties  and  we  had  crusts. 

My  sister,  being  the  children's  nurse,  would  take 
them  and  wash  their  hands  and  put  them  to  bed  in 
their  luxurious  bedrooms,  while  we  little  slaves  would 
find  what  homes  we  could.  My  brother  and  I  would 
go  to  sleep  on  some  lumber  under  the  house,  where 
our  sister  Caroline  would  find  us  and  put  us  to  bed. 
She  would  wipe  our  hands  and  faces  and  make  up 
our  beds  on  the  floor  in  Massa's  house,  for  we  had 
lived  with  him  ever  since  our  own  mother  had  run 
away,  after  being  whipped  by  her  mistress.  Later 
on,  after  the  war,  my  mother  returned  and  claimed 
us.    I  never  knew  my  father,  who  was  a  white  man. 

During  these  changing  times,  just  after  the  war,  I 
was  trying  to  find  out  what  the  change  would  bring 
about  for  us,  as  we  were  under  the  care  of  our  mis- 
tress, living  in  the  great  house.  I  thought  this :  that 
Henry,  Caroline  and  myself,  Louise,  would  have  to 
go  as  others  had  done,  and  where  should  we  go  and 

37 


REMINISCENCES 


what  should  we  do  ?  But  as  time  went  on  there  were 
many  changes.  Our  mistress  and  her  two  daugh- 
ters, Martha  and  Mary,  had  to  become  their  own  ser- 
vants, and  do  all  the  work  of  the  house,  going  into 
the  kitchen,  cooking  and  washing,  and  feeling  very 
angry  that  all  their  house  servants  had  run  away  to 
the  Yankees.  The  time  had  come  when  our  good 
times  were  over,  our  many  leisure  hours  spent  among 
the  cotton  fields  and  woods  and  our  half -holiday  on 
Saturday.  These  were  all  gone.  The  boys  had  to 
leave  school  and  take  the  runaway  slaves'  places  to 
finish  the  planting  and  pick  the  cotton.  I  myself 
have  worked  in  the  cotton  field,  picking  great  baskets 
full,  too  heavy  for  me  to  carry.  All  was  over!  I 
now  fully  understood  the  change  in  our  circum- 
stances. Little  Henry  and  I  had  no  more  time  to  sit 
basking  ourselves  in  the  sunshine  of  the  sunny  south. 
The  land  was  empty  and  the  servants  all  gone.  I 
can  see  my  dainty  mistress  coming  down  the  steps 
saying,  "  Rit,  you  and  Henry  will  have  to  go  and 
pick  up  some  chips,  for  Miss  Mary  and  myself  have 
to  prepare  the  breakfast.  You  children  will  have 
to  learn  to  work.  Do  you  understand  me,  Rit  and 
Henry?  "  "  Yes,  Missus,  we  understand."  And 
away  we  flew,  laughing,  and  thinking  it  a  great  joke 
that  we,  Massa's  pets,  must  learn  to  work. 

38 


REMINISCENCES 


But  it  was  a  sad,  sad  change  on  the  old  plantation, 
and  the  beautiful,  proud  Sunny  South,  with  its  mas- 
ters and  mistresses,  was  bowed  beneath  the  sin 
brought  about  by  slavery.  It  was  a  terrible  blow  to 
the  owners  of  plantations  and  slaves,  and  their  child- 
ren would  feel  it  more  than  they,  for  they  had  been 
reared  to  be  waited  upon  by  willing  or  unwilling 
slaves. 

In  this  place  I  will  insert  a  poem  my  young  mis- 
tress taught  us,  for  she  was  always  reading  poems 
and  good  stories.  But  first  I  will  record  a  talk  I 
heard  between  my  master  and  mistress.  They  were 
sitting  in  the  dining-room,  and  we  children  were 
standing  around  the  table.  My  mistress  said,  "  I 
suppose,  as  Nancy  has  never  returned,  we  had  better 
keep  Henry,  Caroline  and  Louise  until  they  are  of 
age."  "  Yes,  we  will,"  said  Massa,  Miss  Mary 
and  Miss  Martha,  "  but  it  is  '  man  proposes  and  God 
disposes.'  " 

So  in  the  following  pages  you  will  read  the  sequel 
to  my  childhood  life  in  the  Sunny  South. 

Right  after  the  war  when  my  mother  had  got  set- 
tled in  her  hut,  with  her  little  brood  hovered  around 
her,  from  which  she  had  been  so  long  absent,  we  had 
nothing  to  eat,  and  nothing  to  sleep  on  save  some 
old  pieces  of  horse-blankets  and  hay  that  the  soldiers 

39 


EEMINISCENCES 


gave  her.  The  first  day  in  the  hut  was  a  rainy  day ; 
and  as  night  drew  near  it  grew  more  fierce,  and  we 
children  had  gathered  some  little  fagots  to  make  a 
fire  by  the  time  mother  came  home,  with  something 
for  us  to  eat,  such  as  she  had  gathered  through  the 
day.  It  was  only  corn  meal  and  pease  and  ham-bone 
and  skins  which  she  had  for  our  supper.  She  had 
started  a  little  fire,  and  said,  "  Some  of  you  close 
that  door, ' '  for  it  was  cold.  She  swung  the  pot  over 
the  fire  and  filled  it  with  the  pease  and  ham-bone 
and  skins.  Then  she  seated  her  little  brood  around 
the  fire  on  the  pieces  of  blanket,  where  we  watched 
with  all  our  eyes,  our  hearts  filled  with  desire,  look- 
ing to  see  what  she  would  do  next.  She  took  down 
an  old  broken  earthen  bowl,  and  tossed  into  it  the 
little  meal  she  had  brought,  stirring  it  up  with  water, 
making  a  hoe  cake.  She  said,  "  One  of  you  draw 
that  griddle  out  here,"  and  she  placed  it  on  the  few 
little  coals.  Perhaps  this  griddle  you  have  never 
seen,  or  one  like  it.  I  will  describe  it  to  you.  This 
griddle  was  a  round  piece  of  iron,  quite  thick,  having 
three  legs.  It  might  have  been  made  in  a  black- 
smith's shop,  for  I  have  never  seen  one  like  it  before 
or  since.  It  was  placed  upon  the  coals,  and  with  an 
old  iron  spoon  she  put  on  this  griddle  half  of  the 
corn  meal  she  had  mixed  up.    She  said,  "  I  will  put 

40 


KEMINISCENCES 


a  tin  plate  over  this,  and  put  it  away  for  your  break- 
fast."  We  five  children  were  eagerly  watching  the 
pot  boiling,  with  the  pease  and  ham-bone.  The  rain 
was  pattering  on  the  roof  of  the  hut.  All  at  once 
there  came  a  knock  at  the  door.  My  mother  answered 
the  knock.  When  she  opened  the  door,  there  stood  a 
white  woman  and  three  little  children,  all  dripping 
with  the  rain.  My  mother  said, ' '  In  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  where  are  you  going  on  such  a  night,  with 
these  children?  "  The  woman  said,  "  Auntie,  I  am 
travelling.  Will  you  please  let  me  stop  here  to-night, 
out  of  the  rain,  with  my  children?  "  My  mother 
said,  "  Yes,  honey.  I  ain't  got  much,  but  what  I 
have  got  I  will  share  with  you. "  "  God  bless  you !  ' ' 
They  all  came  in.  We  children  looked  in  wonder  at 
what  had  come.  But  my  mother  scattered  her  own 
little  brood  and  made  a  place  for  the  forlorn  wan- 
derers. She  said,  "  Wait,  honey,  let  me  turn  over 
that  hoe  cake. ' '  Then  the  two  women  fell  to  talking, 
each  telling  a  tale  of  woe.  After  a  time,  my  mother 
called  out,  l '  Here,  you,  Louise,  or  some  one  of  you, 
put  some  fagots  under  the  pot,  so  these  pease  can 
get  done. ' '  We  couldn't  put  them  under  fast  enough, 
first  one  and  then  another  of  us  children,  the  mothers 
still  talking.  Soon  my  mother  said,  ' '  Draw  that  hoe 
cake  one  side,  I  guess  it  is  done. ' '    My  mother  said 

41 


REMINISCENCES 


to  the  woman,  ' '  Honey,  ain  't  you  got  no  husband  ?  ' ' 
She  said,  ' '  No,  my  husband  got  killed  in  the  war. ' ' 
My  mother  replied,  "  Well,  my  husband  died  right 
after  the  war.  I  have  been  away  from  my  little 
brood  for  four  years.  With  a  hard  struggle,  I  have 
got  them  away  from  the  Farrin  plantation,  for  they 
did  not  want  to  let  them  go.  But  I  got  them.  I  was 
determined  to  have  them.  But  they  would  not  let 
me  have  them  if  they  could  have  kept  them.  With 
God's  help  I  will  keep  them  from  starving.  The 
white  folks  are  good  to  me.  They  give  me  work,  and 
I  know,  with  God's  help,  I  can  get  along."  The 
white  woman  replied,  ' '  Yes,  Auntie,  my  husband  left 
me  on  a  rich  man's  plantation.  This  man  promised 
to  look  out  for  me  until  my  husband  came  home ;  but 
he  got  killed  in  the  war,  and  the  Yankees  have  set 
his  negroes  free  and  he  said  he  could  not  help  me  any 
more,  and  we  would  have  to  do  the  best  we  could  for 
ourselves.  I  gave  my  things  to  a  woman  to  keep 
for  me  until  I  could  find  my  kinsfolk.  They  live 
about  fifty  miles  from  here,  up  in  the  country.  I 
am  on  my  way  there  now. ' '  My  mother  said,  ' '  How 
long  will  it  take  you  to  get  there?  "  "  About  three 
days,  if  it  don't  rain."  My  mother  said,  "  Ain't 
you  got  some  way  to  ride  there?  "  "  No,  Auntie, 


42 


REMINISCENCES 


there  is  no  way  of  riding  up  where  my  folks  live,  the 
place  where  I  am  from." 

We  hoped  the  talk  was  most  ended,  for  we  were 
anxiously  watching  that  pot.  Pretty  soon  my  mother 
seemed  to  realize  our  existence.  She  exclaimed, 
"  My  Lord!  I  suppose  the  little  children  are  nearly 
starved.  Are  those  pease  done,  young  ones?  "  She 
turned  and  said  to  the  white  woman,  ' '  Have  you-all 
had  anything  to  eat!  "  "  We  stopped  at  a  house 
about  dinner  time,  but  the  woman  didn't  have  any- 
thing but  some  bread  and  buttermilk."  My  mother 
said,  "  Well,  honey,  I  ain't  got  but  a  little,  but  I  will 
divide  with  you."  The  woman  said,  "  Thank  you, 
Auntie.  You  just  give  my  children  a  little ;  I  can  do 
without  it. ' ' 

Then  came  the  dividing.  We  all  watched  with  all 
our  eyes  to  see  what  the  shares  would  be.  My  mother 
broke  a  mouthful  of  bread  and  put  it  on  each  of  the 
tin  plates.  Then  she  took  the  old  spoon  and  equally 
divided  the  pea  soup.  We  children  were  seated 
around  the  fire,  with  some  little  wooden  spoons.  But 
the  wooden  spoons  didn't  quite  go  round,  and  some 
of  us  had  to  eat  with  our  fingers.  Our  share  of  the 
meal,  however,  was  so  small  that  we  were  as  hungry 
when  we  finished  as  when  we  began. 

My  mother  said,  "  Take  that  rag  and  wipe  your 

43 


EEMINISCENCES 


face  and  hands,  and  give  it  to  the  others  and  let  them 
use  it,  too.  Put  those  plates  upon  the  table."  We 
immediately  obeyed  orders,  and  took  our  seats  again 
around  the  fire.  ' '  One  of  you  go  and  pull  that  straw 
out  of  the  corner  and  get  ready  to  go  to  bed. ' '  We 
all  lay  down  on  the  straw,  the  white  children  with  us, 
and  my  mother  covered  us  over  with  the  blanket. 
We  were  soon  in  the  "  Land  of  Nod,"  forgetting  our 
empty  stomachs.  The  two  mothers  still  continued  to 
talk,  sitting  down  on  the  only  seats,  a  couple  of 
blocks.  A  little  back  against  the  wall  my  mother  and 
the  white  woman  slept. 

Bright  and  early  in  the  morning  we  were  called 
up,  and  the  rest  of  the  hoe  cake  was  eaten  for  break- 
fast, with  a  little  meat,  some  coffee  sweetened  with 
molasses.  The  little  wanderers  and  their  mother 
shared  our  meal,  and  then  they  started  again  on  their 
journey  towards  their  home  among  their  kinsfolk, 
and  we  never  saw  them  again.  My  mother  said, 
"  God  bless  you!  I  wish  you  all  good  luck.  I  hope 
you  will  reach  your  home  safely. ' '  Then  mother  said 
to  us,  "  You  young  ones  put  away  that  straw  and 
sweep  up  the  place,  because  I  have  to  go  to  my 
work. ' '  But  she  came  at  noon  and  brought  us  a  nice 
dinner,  more  satisfactory  than  the  supper  and  break- 
fast we  had  had.    We  children  were  delighted  that 

44 


REMINISCENCES 


there  were  no  little  white  children  to  share  our  meal 
this  time. 

In  time,  my  older  sister,  Caroline,  and  myself  got 
work  among  good  people,  where  we  soon  forgot  all 
the  hard  times  in  the  little  log  cabin  by  the  roadside 
in  Clayton,  Alabama. 

Up  to  my  womanhood,  even  to  this  day,  these  mem- 
ories fill  my  mind.  Some  kind  friends '  eyes  may  see 
these  pages,  and  may  they  recall  some  fond  memories 
of  their  happy  childhood,  as  what  I  have  written 
brings  back  my  young  life  in  the  great  Sunny  South. 

I  am  something  of  the  type  of  Moses  on  this  49th 
birthday ;  not  that  I  am  wrapped  in  luxuries,  but  that 
my  thoughts  are  wrapped  in  the  luxuries  of  the 
heavenly  life  in  store  for  me,  when  my  life  work  is 
done,  and  my  friends  shall  be  blessed  by  the  work  I 
shall  have  done.  For  God  has  commanded  me  to 
write  this  book,  that  some  one  may  read  and  receive 
comfort  and  courage  to  do  what  God  commands  them 
to  do.  God  bless  every  soul  who  shall  read  this  true 
life  story  of  one  born  in  slavery. 

It  is  now  six  years  since  the  inspiration  to  write 
this  book  came  to  me  in  the  Franklin  evening  school. 

I  have  struggled  on,  helped  by  friends.    God  said, 

I I  Write  the  book  and  I  will  help  you. ' '    And  He  has. 
It  was  through  a  letter  of  my  life  that  the  principal 

45 


KEMINISCENCES 


of  the  Franklin  school  said,  "  Write  the  book  and  I 
will  help  you."  But  he  died  before  the  next  term, 
and  I  worked  on.  On  this,  my  49th  birthday,  I  can 
say  I  believe  that  the  book  is  close  to  the  finish. 

My  life  is  like  the  summer  rose 
That  opens  to  the  morning  sky, 
But  ere  the  shades  of  evening  close 
Is  scattered  on  the  ground  to  die. 
Yet  on  the  rose's  humble  bed 
The  sweetest  dews  of  night  are  shed, 
As  if  she  wept  a  tear  for  me, 
As  if  she  wept  the  waste  to  see. 

My  life  is  like  the  autumn  leaf 
That  trembles  in  the  moon's  pale  ray. 
Its  hold  is  frail,  its  date  is  brief, 
Restless,  and  soon  to  pass  away. 
Yet,  ere  that  leaf  shall  fall  and  fade, 
The  parent  tree  will  mourn  its  shade, 
The  winds  bewail  the  leafless  tree; 
But  none  shall  breathe  a  sigh  for  me. 

My  life  is  like  the  prints  which  feet 
Have  left  on  Tampa's  desert  strand. 
Soon  as  the  rising  tide  shall  beat 
All  trace  will  vanish  from  the  sand. 
Yet,  as  if  grieving  to  efface 
All  vestige  of  the  human  race, 
On  that  lone  shore  loud  moans  the  sea. 
But  none,  alas,  shall  mourn  for  me. 


46 


A  VISION 


M      A      Jt      A  VISION      ji      j>      ji 

There  remains  to  be  told  the  story  of  my  conver- 
sion and  how  I  came  to  write  the  foregoing  history 
of  my  life. 

In  1875  I  was  taken  sick.  I  thought  I  was  going 
to  die,  and  I  promised  the  Lord  I  would  serve  Him 
if  he  would  only  spare  my  life.  When  I  got  well 
again,  however,  I  forgot  all  about  my  promise. 
Then  I  was  taken  sick  again.  It  seemed  I  had  to 
go  through  a  dark  desert  place,  where  great  demons 
stood  on  either  side.  In  the  distance  I  could  just 
see  a  dim  light,  and  I  tried  to  get  to  this  light,  but 
could  not  reach  it.  Then  I  found  myself  in  a  great 
marsh,  and  was  sinking.  I  threw  up  my  hands  and 
said,  "  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt  raise  me  from  this  pit, 
I  will  never  fail  to  serve  Thee."  Then  it  seemed 
as  if  I  mounted  on  wings  into  the  air,  and  all  the 
demons  that  stood  about  made  a  great  roaring.  My 
flight  ended  on  the  top  of  a  hill.  But  I  was  troubled 
because  I  could  not  find  the  light.  All  at  once,  at 
the   sound   of  a  loud  peal   of  thunder,   the   earth 

49 


MEMOKIES  OF  LIFE  IN"  THE  NORTH 

opened,  and  I  fell  down  into  the  pits  of  hell.  Again 
I  prayed  to  God  to  save  me  from  this,  and  again  I 
promised  to  serve  Him.  My  prayer  was  answered, 
and  I  was  able  to  fly  out  of  the  pit,  on  to  a  bank. 
At  the  foot  of  the  little  hill  on  which  I  sat  were  some 
little  children,  and  they  called  to  me  to  come  down. 
But  I  could  not  get  down.  Then  the  children  raised 
a  ladder  for  me,  and  I  came  down  among  them.  A 
little  cherub  took  me  by  the  hand  and  led  me  in 
the  River  of  Badjied  of  Jordan.  I  looked  at  my 
ankles  and  shoulders  and  discovered  I  had  little 
wings.  On  the  river  was  a  ship.  The  children,  the 
cherub  and  I  got  into  the  ship.  When  we  reached 
a  beautiful  spot,  the  little  cherub  made  the  ship 
fast,  and  there  opened  before  us  pearly  gates,  and 
we  all  passed  through  into  the  golden  street.  The 
street  led  to  the  throne  of  God,  about  which  we 
marched.  Then  the  cherub  conducted  us  to  a  table 
where  a  feast  was  spread.  Then  the  children  van- 
ished. The  cherub  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  said, 
' '  Go  back  into  the  world,  and  tell  the  saints  and  sin- 
ners what  a  Savior  you  have  found,  and  if  you  prove 
faithful  I  will  take  you  to  Heaven  to  live  forever, 
when  I  come  again." 

When  I  recovered  from  my  sickness,  I  was  bap- 
tized by  the  Eev.  Dr.  Pope,  and  joined  the  church 

50 


MEMOKIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NOKTH 

in  Macon.  When  I  came  North,  I  brought  my  letter. 
Not  finding  any  church  for  colored  people,  I  came 
among  the  white  people,  and  was  treated  so  kindly 
that  I  became  very  much  attached  to  them.  The 
first  church  I  became  connected  with  in  the  North, 
was  in  Newtonville.  When  I  came  to  Boston,  I 
went  to  the  Warren  Avenue  Baptist  Church.  Be- 
fore my  marriage  I  joined  Tremont  Temple,  when 
Dr.  Lorimer  was  its  pastor.  When  the  church  was 
burned,  my  letter  was  destroyed,  but  when  I  went 
South  on  a  visit  I  had  the  letter  duplicated,  and  took 
it  to  the  new  Temple.  I  am  still  a  member  of  the 
Temple,  and  hope  to  remain  there  as  long  as  God 
gives  me  life. 

Five  years  ago,  I  began  to  go  to  the  Franklin 
evening  school.  Mr.  Guild  was  the  master.  At  one 
time  he  requested  all  the  pupils  to  write  the  story  of 
their  lives,  and  he  considered  my  composition  so  in- 
teresting he  said  he  thought  if  I  could  work  it  up 
and  enlarge  upon  it,  I  could  write  a  book.  He  prom- 
ised to  help  me.  My  teacher  was  Miss  Emerson,  and 
she  was  interested  in  me.  But  the  next  year  Miss 
Emerson  gave  up  teaching,  and  Mr.  Guild  died. 

In  each  of  the  terms  that  I  have  attended,  I  have 
received  the  certificates  showing  that  I  have  been 
regular  and  punctual  in  attendance,  have  maintained 

51 


MEMOKIES  OF  LIFE  IN  THE  NOKTH 

good  deportment,  and  shown  general  proficiency  in 
the  studies.  I  would  have  graduated  in  1907,  had  it 
not  been  for  sickness.  The  following  was  to  have 
been  my  graduating  composition. 


52 


ABRAHAM    LINCOLN 


ANNIE   L.    BURTON 


^     ABRAHAM    LINCOLN     <£ 

In  a  little  clearing  in  the  backwoods  of  Harding 
County,  Kentucky,  there  stood  years  ago  a  rude 
cabin  within  whose  walls  Abraham  Lincoln  passed 
his  childhood.  An  "  unaccountable  "  man  he  has 
been  called,  and  the  adjective  was  well  chosen,  for 
who  could  account  for  a  mind  and  nature  like  Lin- 
coln's with  the  ancestry  he  owned!  His  father  was 
a  thriftless,  idle  carpenter,  scarcely  supporting  his 
family,  and  with  but  the  poorest  living.  His  mother 
was  an  uneducated  woman,  but  must  have  been  of 
an  entirely  different  nature,  for  she  was  able  to 
impress  upon  her  boy  a  love  of  learning.  During 
her  life,  his  chief,  in  fact  his  only  book,  was  the 
Bible,  and  in  this  he  learned  to  read.  Just  before 
he  was  nine  years  old,  the  father  brought  his  family 
across  the  Ohio  River  into  Illinois,  and  there  in  the 
unfloored  log  cabin,  minus  windows  and  doors, 
Abraham  lived  and  grew.  It  was  during  this  time 
that  the  mother  died,  and  in  a  short  time  the  shift- 
less father  with  his  family  drifted  back  to  the  old 

55 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 


home,  and  here  found  another  for  his  children  in 
one  who  was  a  friend  of  earlier  days.  This  woman 
was  of  a  thrifty  nature,  and  her  energy  made  him 
floor  the  cabin,  hang  doors,  and  open  up  windows. 
She  was  fond  of  the  children  and  cared  for  them 
tenderly,  and  to  her  the  boy  Abraham  owed  many 
pleasant  hours. 

As  he  grew  older,  his  love  for  knowledge  in- 
creased and  he  obtained  whatever  books  he  could, 
studying  by  the  firelight,  and  once  walking  six  miles 
for  an  English  Grammar.  After  he  read  it,  he 
walked  the  six  miles  to  return  it.  He  needed  the 
book  no  longer,  for  with  this  as  with  his  small  col- 
lection of  books,  what  he  once  read  was  his.  He 
absorbed  the  books  he  read. 

During  these  early  years  he  did  "  odd  jobs  "  for 
the  neighbors.  Even  at  this  age,  his  gift  of  story 
telling  was  a  notable  one,  as  well  as  his  sterling 
honesty.  His  first  knowledge  of  slavery  in  all  its 
horrors  came  to  him  when  he  was  about  twenty-one 
years  old.  He  had  made  a  trip  to  New  Orleans,  and 
there  in  the  old  slave  market  he  saw  an  auction. 
His  face  paled,  and  his  spirits  rose  in  revolt  at  the 
coarse  jest  of  the  auctioneer,  and  there  he  regis- 
tered a  vow  within  himself, ' '  If  ever  I  have  a  chance 
to  strike  against  slavery,  I  will  strike  and  strike 

56 


ABKAHAM  LINCOLN 


hard."    To  this  end  he  worked  and  for  this  he  paid 
"  the  last  full  measure  of  devotion." 

His  political  life  began  with  a  defeat  for  the  Illi- 
nois Legislature  in  1830,  but  he  was  returned  in 
1834,  1836,  1838,  and  declined  re-election  in  1840, 
preferring  to  study  law  and  prepare  for  his  future. 
"  Honest  Abe  "  he  has  been  called,  and  throughout 
Illinois  that  characteristic  was  the  prominent  one 
known  of  him.  From  this  time  his  rise  was  rapid. 
Sent  to  the  Congress  of  the  nation,  he  seldom  spoke, 
but  when  he  did  his  terse  though  simple  expression 
always  won  him  a  hearing.  His  simplicity  and 
frankness  was  deceptive  to  the  political  leaders,  and 
from  its  very  fearlessness  often  defeated  them. 

His  famous  debates  with  Senator  Douglas,  the 
' '  Little  Giant, ' '  spread  his  reputation  from  one  end 
of  the  country  to  the  other,  and  at  their  close  there 
was  no  question  as  to  Lincoln's  position  in  the 
North,  or  on  the  vital  question  of  the  day. 

The  spirit  of  forbearance  he  carried  with  him  to 
the  White  House,  "  with  malice  toward  none,  with 
charity  for  all."  This  was  the  spirit  that  carried 
him  through  the  four  awful  years  of  the  war.  The 
martyr's  crown  hovered  over  him  from  the  outset. 
The  martyr's  spirit  was  always  his.  The  burden  of 
the    war    always    rested    on    his    shoulders.      The 

57 


ABEAHAM  LINCOLN 


fathers,  sons  and  brothers,  the  honored  dead  of 
Gettysburg,  of  Antietam,  all  lay  upon  his  mighty 
heart. 

He  never  forgot  his  home  friends,  and  when  occa- 
sionally one  dropped  in  on  him,  the  door  was  always 
open.  They  frequently  had  tea  in  the  good  old- 
fashioned  way,  and  then  Lincoln  listened  to  the  news 
of  the  village,  old  stories  were  retold,  new  ones  told, 
and  the  old  friendships  cemented  by  new  bonds. 

Then  came  the  end,  swift  and  sudden,  and  gloom 
settled  upon  the  country;  for  in  spite  of  ancestry, 
self-education,  ungainly  figure,  ill-fitting  clothes,  the 
soul  of  the  man  had  conquered  even  the  stubborn 
South,  while  the  cold-blooded  North  was  stricken 
to  the  heart.    The  noblest  one  of  all  had  been  taken. 


58 


The  Race  Question  in  America 


DR.  P.  THOMAS  STANFORD 


THE  RACE  QUESTION  IN  AMERICA 

BY 

DR.    P.   THOMAS   STANFORD 

Author  of  the  "  Tragbdy  of  the  Negro  in  America" 


As  a  member  of  the  negro  race,  I  myself  have  suffered 
as  a  child  whose  parents  were  born  in  slavery,  deprived  of  all 
influences  of  the  ennobling  life,  made  obedient  to  the  will  of 
the  white  man  by  the  lash  and  chain,  and  sold  to  the  highest 
bidder  when  there  was  no  more  use  for  them. 

The  first  negro  fact  for  white  thought  is  —  that  my 
clients,  the  colored  people  here  in  America,  are  not  responsible 
for  being  here  any  more  than  they  are  responsible  for 
their  conditions  of  ignorance  and  poverty.  They  suddenly 
emerge  from  their  prison  house  poor,  without  a  home,  without 
food  or  clothing,  and  ignorant.  Now  the  enemies  of  God  and 
of  the  progress  of  civilization  in  our  country  are  to-day  intro- 
ducing a  system  of  slavery  with  which  they  hope  to  again 
enslave  the  colored  people.  To  carry  out  their  evil  designs 
they  retain  able  politicians,  lawyers  and  newspapers  to  repre- 
sent them,  such  as  Senator  Tillman,  the  Hon.  John  Temple 
Graves  of  Georgia  and  the  Baltimore  Sun,  and  they  are  try- 
ing the  negro  on  four  counts  which  allege  that  the  race  is 
ignorant,  cannot  be  taught,  is  lazy  and  immoral. 

61 


THE  EACE  QUESTION  IN  AMERICA 

Now,  are  the  negroes,  as  a  whole,  guilty  of  these  charges  ? 
In  the  first  place,  the  negro  race  of  America  is  not  ignorant. 
In  the  year  1833  John  C.  Calhoun,  senator  from  South  Caro- 
lina, is  reported  to  have  said  that  if  he  could  find  a  single 
negro  who  understood  the  Greek  syntax,  he  would  believe 
the  negro  was  human  and  would  treat  him  as  such.  At  that 
time  it  was  a  very  safe  test.  God  accepted  the  challenge  in 
behalf  of  the  negro  race,  and  inspired  his  white  sons  and 
daughters  both  in  the  North  and  South  to  teach  their  brothers 
in  black;  and  a  few  years  afterward  black  men  were  exam- 
ined and  the  world  pronounced  them  scholars,  while  later 
still  the  schools  were  using  a  Greek  grammar  written  by  a 
black  man,  W.  S.  Scarborough  of  Wilberforce,  0.  In  his 
class  were  Frederick  Douglas,  Henry  Highland  Garnett, 
Eobert  Elliot,  the  Eev.  J.  C.  Price  and  John  M.  Langstone, 
as  defenders  of  the  race.  Bishop  Allen  Payne,  Bishop  Hood 
and  John  B.  Beaver  will  ever  be  remembered  for  their  godly 
piety  and  Christian  example,  as  we  shall  also  remember 
Bishop,  Sumner  and  Bubois  for  their  great  literary  produc- 
tions, William  Washington  Brown  as  the  greatest  organizer 
and  financier  of  the  century,  Prof.  Booker  Washington  as  the 
greatest  industrial  educator  of  the  world,  and  last,  but  not 
least,  Thomas  Condon,  the  greatest  crank  for  the  spiritual 
training  and  higher  education  of  the  negro  race. 

Under  the  leadership  of  such  men,  assisted  by  our  white 
friends  and  backed  up  by  our  colored  race  journals  —  the 
Christian  Banner  of  Philadelphia,  the  Christian  Becorder,  the 
Star  of  Zion  and  the  Afro-American  Ledger  of  Baltimore, 

62 


THE  KACE  QUESTION  IN  AMERICA 

Ind.,  the  National  Baptist  Union  of  Pennsylvania,  the  Age 
of  New  York,  the  Christian  Organizer  of  Virginia  and  the 
Guardian  of  Boston  —  our  onward  march  to  civilization  is 
phenomenal  and  by  these  means  we  have  reduced  illiteracy 
50  per  cent. 

"  In  the  South  we  have  over  $12,000,000  worth  of  school 
property,  3,000  teachers,  50  high  schools,  17  academies,  125 
colleges,  10  law  and  medical  schools,  25  theological  seminaries, 
all  doing  a  mighty  work  for  God  and  humanity. 

Now  as  to  laziness.  We  have  now  in  practice  14,000 
lawyers  and  doctors,  and  have  accumulated  over  $150,000,000 
worth  of  church  property.  In  the  South  we  have  over  150,000 
farms  and  houses,  valued  at  $900,000,000,  and  personal  prop- 
erty at  $170,000,000.  We  have  raised  over  $11,000,000  for 
educational  purposes.  The  property  per  capita  for  every 
colored  man,  woman  and  child  in  the  United  States  is  esti- 
mated at  $75,  and  we  are  operating  successfully  several  banks 
and  factories;  we  have  7,500,000  acres  of  land,  and  the  busi- 
ness activity  of  the  colored  people  was  never  as  thoroughly 
aroused  as  it  is  to-day. 

When  I  come  to  deal  with  the  charge  of  immorality  I 
bow  my  head  and  blush  for  shame,  first  because  if  the  charge 
be  true,  I  see  they  are  getting  like  the  white  man  every  day. 
I  know  that  at  the  close  of  the  American  civil  war  the  4,000,- 
000  negroes  had  more  than  25  per  cent,  of  white  blood  cours- 
ing through  their  veins. 

What  about  this  new  educated  negro?  Just  ask  the 
Pullman  Car  Company,  which  employs  hundreds  of  negroes, 

63 


THE  RACE  QUESTION  IN  AMERICA 

into  whose  care  thousands  of  women  and  children  of  our  best 
American  families  are  entrusted  every  day. 

Now,  you  cannot  do  without  the  negro,  because  if  you 
send  him  away,  you  will  run  after  him.  He  is  here  to  stay. 
The  only  way  to  deal  successfully  with  the  colored  race  is 
God's  way.  First,  recognize  that  he  is  your  guest;  second, 
recognize  that  you  have  robbed  him  of  his  birthplace,  home, 
family  and  savings.  It  is  these  facts  that  are  causing  so  much 
unrest  on  the  part  of  the  whites  in  this  country.  The  negro 
loves  his  country,  which  he  has  proved  beyond  a  doubt  in  every 
American  battle,  in  every  act  of  loyalty  to  his  country,  and 
in  his  long  and  patient  suffering.  Pay  him  what  you  owe 
him  by  educating  him.  Give  him  an  opportunity  to  live. 
Allow  him  to  live  in  decent  parts  of  your  city.  Pay  wages 
sufficient  to  support  his  children.  Do  this  and  God  will  re- 
move the  objectionable  negro  from  the  land. 

The  Negro  stands  to-day  upon  an  eminence  that  overlooks 
more  than  two  decades  spent  in  efforts  to  ameliorate  the  con- 
dition of  seven  million  immortal  souls  by  opening  before 
their  hitherto  dark  and  cheerless  lives  possibilities  of  develop- 
ment into  a  perfect  and  symmetrical  manhood  and  woman- 
hood. 

The  retrospect  presents  to  us  a  picture  of  a  people's  moral 
degradation  and  mental  gloom  caused  by  slavery.  A  people 
absolutely  sunk  in  the  lowest  depth  of  a  poverty  which  re- 
duced them  to  objects  of  charity  and  surrounded  them  with 
difficulties  which  have  ever  stood  as  impregnable  barriers  in 

64 


THE  RACE  QUESTION  IN  AMERICA 

their  way  to  speedy  advancement  in  all  those  qualities  that 
make  the  useful  citizen.  Every  influence  of  state  and  society 
life  seems  to  be  against  their  progress  and  like  some  evil 
genius,  these  Negro  hating  ghosts  are  forever  hunting  them 
with  the  idea  that  their  future  must  be  one  of  subserviency 
to  the  white  race. 

Hated  and  oppressed  by  the  combined  wisdom,  wealth  and 
statesmanship  of  a  mighty  confederacy  who  watched  and  criti- 
cised their  mistakes  which  were  strongly  magnified  by  those 
who  fain  would  write  destruction  upon  the  Emancipation; 
they  are  expected  to  rise  from  this  condition. 

The  idea  of  giving  to  the  newly  enfranchised  a  sound,  prac- 
tical education  was  considered  at  the  dawn  of  freedom,  an 
easy  solution  of  what  as  an  unsolved  problem  threatened  the 
perpetuity  of  republican  institutions.  Within  a  year  from 
the  firing  on  Sumter,  benevolent  and  farsighted  Northern 
friends  had  established  schools  from  Washington  to  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  which  became  centers  of  light  penetrating  the 
darkness  and  scattering  the  blessings  of  an  enlightened  man- 
hood far  and  wide. 

The  history  of  the  world  cannot  produce  a  more  affecting 
spectacle  than  the  growth  of  this  mighty  Christian  philan- 
thropy which,  in  beginning  amid  the  din  of  battle,  has  stead- 
ily marched  on  through  every  opposing  influence,  and  lifted 
a  race  from  weakness  to  strength,  from  poverty  to  wealth, 
from  moral  and  intellectual  nonentity  to  place  and  power 
among  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

We  have  ten  millions  of  colored  people  in  the  United  States 

65 


THE  RACE  QUESTION  IN  AMERICA 

whose  condition  is  much  better  to-day  than  it  was  fifty  years 
ago.  Then  he  had  nothing,  not  even  a  name.  To-day  he 
has  160,000  farms  under  good  cultivation  and  valued  at 
$4,000,000  and  has  personal  property  valued  at  $200,000,000. 
In  the  Southland  the  negroes  own  160  first-class  drug  stores, 
nine  banks,  13  building  associations,  and  100  insurance  and 
benefit  companies,  two  street  railways  and  an  electric  at  Jack- 
sonville, Fla.,  which  they  started  some  few  years  ago  when 
the  white  people  passed  the  Jim  Crow  law  for  that  state. 

Now  it  is  reckoned  that  the  negroes  in  the  United  States 
are  paying  about  $700,000,000  property  taxes  and  this  is 
only  one-fifth  of  all  they  have  accumulated,  for  the  negro  is 
getting  more  like  the  white  people  every  day  and  has  learned 
from  him  that  it  is  not  a  sign  of  loyalty  and  patriotism  to 
publish  his  property  at  its  full  taxable  value. 

In  education  and  morals  the  progress  is  still  greater.  As 
you  all  know,  at  the  close  of  the  war  the  whole  race  was 
practically  illiterate.  It  was  a  rare  thing,  indeed,  to  find  a 
man  of  the  race  who  even  knew  his  letters.  In  1880  the  il- 
literacy had  fallen  to  70  per  cent,  and  rapid  strides  along  that 
line  have  been  made  ever  since. 

To-day  there  are  37,000  negro  teachers  in  America,  of 
which  number  23,000  are  regular  graduates  of  high  and 
normal  schools  and  colleges,  23  are  college  presidents,  169 
are  principals  of  seminaries  and  many  are  principals  of  higher 
institutions.  At  present  there  are  369  negro  men  and  women 
taking  courses  in  the  universities  of  Europe.  The  negro 
ministry,  together  with  these  teachers  have  been  prepared  for 

66 


THE  EACE  QUESTION  EST  AMEEICA 

their  work  by  our  schools  and  are  the  greatest  factors  the 
North  has  produced  for  the  uplift  of  the  colored  man. 

To-day  there  are  those  who  wish  to  impede  the  negro's 
progress  and  lessen  his  educational  advantages  by  industrial- 
izing such  colleges  as  Howard  University  of  Washington  by 
placing  on  their  Boards  of  Trustees  and  Managers  the  pro- 
nounced leaders  of  industrialism,  giving  as  a  reason  that  the 
better  he  is  educated  the  worse  he  is;  in  other  words,  they 
say  crime  has  increased  among  educated  negroes.  While  stern 
facts  show  the  opposite,  the  exact  figures  from  the  last  census 
show  that  the  greater  proportion  of  the  negro  criminals  are 
from  the  illiterate  class.  To-day  the  marriage  vow,  which  by 
the  teaching  of  the  whites  the  negro  held  to  be  of  so  little 
importance  before  the  war,  is  guarded  more  sacredly.  The 
one  room  cabin,  with  its  attendant  evils,  is  passing  away, 
and  the  negro  woman,  the  mightiest  moral  factor  in  the  life 
of  her  people,  is  beginning  to  be  more  careful  in  her  deport- 
ment and  is  no  longer  the  easy  victim  of  the  unlicensed  pas- 
sion of  certain  white  men.  This  is  a  great  gain  and  is  a 
sign  of  real  progress,  for  no  race  can  rise  higher  than  its 
women. 

Let  me  plead  with  the  friends  of  the  negro.  Please  con- 
tinue to  give  him  higher  ideals  of  a  better  life  and  stand 
by  him  in  the  struggle.  He  has  done  well  with  the  oppor- 
tunities given  him  and  is  doing  something  along  all  the 
walks  of  life  to  help  himself,  which  is  gratitude  of  the  best 
sort.  What  he  needs  to-day  is  moral  sympathy,  which  in  his 
condition  years  ago  he  could  hardly  appreciate.     The  sym- 

67 


THE  EACE  QUESTION  IN  AMEKICA 

pathy  must  be  moral,  not  necessarily  social.  It  must  be  the 
sympathy  of  a  soul  set  on  fire  for  righteousness  and  fair  play 
in  a  republic  like  ours.  A  sympathy  which  will  see  to  it  that 
every  man  shall  have  a  man's  chance  in  all  the  affairs  of  this 
great  nation  which  boasts  of  being  the  land  of  the  free  and 
the  home  of  the  brave  for  which  the  black  man  has  suffered 
and  done  so  much  in  every  sense  of  the  word. 

Let  this  great  Christian  nation  of  eighty  millions  of  people 
do  justice  to  the  Black  Battalion,  and  seeing  President  Koose- 
velt  acknowledges  that  he  overstepped  the  bounds  of  his  power 
in  discharging  and  renouncing  them  before  they  had  a  fair 
trial,  and  now  that  they  are  vindicated  before  the  world,  to 
take  back  what  he  called  them,  Cutthroats,  Brutal  Murderers, 
Black  Midnight  Assassins,  and  Cowards.  This  and  this 
alone  will  to  some  extent  atone  for  the  wrong  he  has  done 
and  help  him  to  regain  the  respect  and  confidence  of  the 
world. 

Now  in  order  to  change  the  condition  of  things,  I  would 
suggest:  First,  that  an  international,  industrial  association 
be  formed  to  help  Afro-Americans  to  engage  in  manufac- 
turing and  commercial  pursuits,  assist  them  to  buy  farms, 
erect  factories,  open  shops  in  which  their  young  men  and 
women  can  enter  and  produce  what  the  world  requires  every 
day  for  its  inhabitants. 

If  they  were  able  to-day  to  produce  the  articles  in  common 
use  as  boots,  shoes,  hats,  cotton  and  woolen  goods,  made-up 
clothing  and  enterprises  such  as  farming,  mining,  forging, 
carpentering,  etc.,  negroes  would  find  a  ready  sale  in  prefer- 

68 


THE  KACE  QUESTION  IN  AMEEICA 

ence  to  all  others,  because  of  its  being  a  race  enterprise,  doing 
what  no  other  corporation  does,  giving  employment  to  mem- 
bers of  the  race  as  tradesmen,  and  teaching  others  to  become 
skilled  workers.  These  enterprises  should  be  started  in  the 
southern,  northern  and  western  states,  where  the  negro  popu- 
lation will  warrant  such  an  undertaking. 

I  would  suggest  "  A  School  History  of  the  Negro  Eace  " 
to  be  placed  in  our  public  schools  as  a  text  book.  The  gen- 
eral tone  of  all  the  histories  taught  in  our  public  schools 
points  to  the  inferiority  of  the  negro  and  the  superiority  of 
the  white.  It  must  be  indeed  a  stimulus  to  any  people  to 
be  able  to  refer  to  their  ancestry  as  distinguished  in  deeds 
of  valor,  and  particularly  so  to  the  colored  people.  With 
what  eyes  can  the  white  child  look  upon  the  colored  child 
and  the  colored  child  look  upon  himself,  when  they  have  com- 
pleted the  assigned  course  of  United  States  history,  and  in 
it  found  not  one  word  of  credit,  not  one  word  of  favorable 
comment  for  even  one  among  the  millions  of  his  fore-parents 
who  have  lived  through  nearly  three  centuries  of  his  country's 
history.  In  them  he  is  credited  with  no  heritage  of  valor, 
he  is  mentioned  only  as  a  slave,  while  true  historical  records 
prove  him  to  have  been  among  the  bravest  of  soldiers  and 
a  faithful  producer  of  the  nation's  wealth.  Though  then  a 
slave  to  the  government,  the  negro's  was  the  first  blood  shed 
in  its  defence  in  those  days  when  a  foreign  foe  threatened 
its  destruction.  In  each  and  all  of  the  American  wars  the 
negro  was  faithful,  yes,  faithful  in  battle  while  members 
of  his  race  were  being  lynched  to  death;  faithful  to  a  land 

69 


THE  RACE  QUESTION  IN  AMERICA 

not  his  own  in  points  of  rights  and  freedom,  all  and  that 
after  he  had  enriched  with  his  own  life's  blood,  shouldered 
his  musket  to  defend,  when  all  this  was  done,  regarded  him 
with  renewed  terms,  Black,  Negro. 

Last  but  not  least  the  negro  needs  a  daily  newspaper  in 
every  large  city,  managed  and  edited  by  members  of  the  race. 

Such  papers  are  needed  to  deal  with  questions  of  state  and 
reflect  the  thoughts  of  the  social  world,  to  enter  the  province 
of  ethics  and  tread  the  domain  of  morals  and  to  give  their 
opinion  on  the  varying  phases  of  religious  truths  and  pass 
judgment  on  matters  of  a  political  nature. 

There  are  hidden  wrongs  perpetrated  by  the  whites  against 
the  negro  race  that  will  never  be  brought  to  light  until  the 
race  owns  and  controls  its  own  daily  newspapers  which  alone 
have  the  power  to  discover  and  enthrone  truth,  thus  becoming 
a  safe  guide  to  all  honest  seekers  of  facts  respecting  the  race 
whether  from  a  moral,  educational,  political  or  religious  field. 
To  carry  out  the  plans  suggested,  whether  viewed  from  an 
intellectual,  industrial,  commercial,  or  editorial  standpoint, 
the  world  must  acknowledge  that  to-day  the  negro  race  has 
the  men  and  women,  who  are  true  to  their  race  and  all  that 
stands  for  negro  progress. 


70 


HISTORICAL    COMPOSITION 


ANNIE    L.    BURTON 


HISTORICAL  COMPOSITION 


It  is  only  132  years  ago  to-day  that  the  British  troops, 
who  had  occupied  Boston.,  made  a  riding  school  of  the  Old 
South  church,  and  otherwise  sacrilegiously  disported  them- 
selves, were  persuaded  to  get  out  under  the  compulsion  of 
the  batteries  set  up  on  Dorchester  Heights.  But  when  the 
last  company  embarked  for  Halifax,  it  carried  the  last  Brit- 
ish flag  ever  unfurled  by  a  military  organization  on  Massa- 
chusetts soil.  That  was  the  end  of  foreign  domination  in 
Massachusetts.  And  by  a  happy  coincidence  this  is  the 
legendary  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  St.  Patrick,  the  patron 
saint  of  Ireland,  whose  memory  has  been  an  inspiration  in 
the  struggle  of  another  race  for  Libertv. 


73 


A  QUESTION  OF  ETHICS 
Jt 

New  York,  Dec.  17.  —  Andrew  Carnegie  declared  yester- 
day in  a  speech  on  the  negro  question  that  the  negroes  are 
a  blessing  to  America,  and  that  their  presence  in  the  South 
makes  this  country  impregnable  and  without  need  of  a  navy 
to  defend  itself. 

"  Suppose,"  said  Mr.  Carnegie,  "  Great  Britain  were  to 
send  her  war  fleets  to  America.  It  would  amount  to  nothing. 
All  that  the  President  of  the  United  States  would  have  to 
do  would  be  to  say,  '  Stop  exporting  cotton.'  The  war  would 
be  ended  in  four  days,  for  England  cannot  do  without  our 
cotton. 

"  We  don't  need  a  navy ;  we  are  impregnable.  Because  we 
have  9,000,000  colored  men  anxious  and  willing  to  work 
we  hold  this  strong  position,  and  I  am  interested  in  the  negro 
from  this  material  standpoint,  as  well  as  from  the  more 
bumane  point  of  view." 


74 


MY   FAVORITE    POEMS 


*    *    MY    FAVORITE    POEMS    ji    j* 


Verses 

On  a  green  slope,  most  fragrant  with  the   Spring, 

One  sweet,  fair  day  I  planted  a  red  rose, 
That  grew,  beneath  my  tender  nourishing, 

So  tall,  so  riotous  of  bloom,  that  those 
Who  passed  the  little  valley  where  it  grew 

Smiled  at  its  beauty.    All  the  air  was  sweet 
About  it !     Still  I  tended  it,  and  knew 

That  he  would  come,  e'en  as  it  grew  complete. 

And  a  day  brought  him !    Up  I  led  him,  where 

In  the  warm  sun  my  rose  bloomed  gloriously  — 
Smiling  and  saying,  Lo,  is  it  not  fair? 

And  all  for  thee  —  all  thine  !    But  he  passed  by 
Coldly,  and  answered,  Rose?     I  see  no  rose, — 

Leaving  me  standing  in  the  barren  vale 
Alone !  alone !  feeling  the  darkness  close 

Deep  o'er  my  heart,  and  all  my  being  fail. 

Then  came  one,  gently,  yet  with  eager  tread, 
Begging  one  rose-bud  —  but  my  rose  was  dead. 

77 


MY  FAVOKITE  POEMS 


Verses 

The  old,  old  Wind  that  whispers  to  old  trees, 

Round  the  dark  country  when  the  sun  has  set, 
Goes  murmuring  still  of  unremembered  seas 

And  cities  of  the  dead  that  men  forget  — 
An  old  blind  beggar-man,  distained  and  gray, 

With  ancient  tales  to  tell, 
Mumbling  of  this  and  that  upon  his  way, 

Strange  song  and  muttered  spell  — 
Neither  to  East  or  West,  or  South  or  North, 

His  habitation  lies, 
This  roofless  vagabond  who  wanders  forth 

Aye  under  alien  skies  — 
A  gypsy  of  the  air,  he  comes  and  goes 

Between  the  tall  trees  and  the  shadowed  grass, 
And  what  he  tells  only  the  twilight  knows  .  .  . 

The  tall  trees  and  the  twilight  hear  him  pass. 

To  him  the  Dead  stretch  forth  their  strengthless  hands, 
He  who  campaigns  in  other  climes  than  this, 

He  who  is  free  of  the  Unshapen  Lands, 
The  empty  homes  of  Dis. 

Verses 

Out  of  the  scattered  fragments 

Of  castles  I  built  in  the  air 
I  gathered  enough  together 

To  fashion  a  cottage  with  care; 
Thoughtfully,  slowly,  I  planned  it, 

And  little  by  little  it  grew  — 
Perfect  in  form  and  in  substance, 

Because  I  designed  it  for  you. 

78 


MY  FAVORITE  POEMS 


The  castles  that  time  has  shattered 

Gleamed  spotless  and  pearly  white 
As  they  stood  in  the  misty  distance 

That  borders  the  Land  of  Delight; 
Sleeping  and  waking  I  saw  them 

Grow  brighter  and  fairer  each  day; 
But,  alas !  at  the  touch  of  a  finger 

They  trembled  and  crumbled  away! 


Then  out  of  the  dust  I  gathered 

A  bit  of  untarnished  gold, 
And  a  gem  unharmed  by  contact 

With  stones  of  a  baser  mold; 
For  sometimes  a  priceless  jewel 

Gleams  wondrously  pure  and  fair 
From  glittering  paste  foundations 

Of  castles  we  see  in  the  air. 


So,  I  turned  from  the  realms  of  fancy, 

As  remote  as  the  stars  above, 
And  into  the  land  of  the  living 

I  carried  the  jewel  of  love; 
The  mansions  of  dazzling  brightness 

Have  crumbled  away,  it  is  true; 
But  firm  upon  gold  foundations 

Stands  the  cottage  I  built  for  you! 


79 


MY  FAVORITE  POEMS 


Verses 

You  do  but  jest,  sir,  and  you  jest  not  well. 

How  could  the  hand  be  enemy  of  the  arm, 

Or  seed  and  sod  be  rivals?     How  could  light 

Feel  jealousy  of  heat,  plant  of  the  leaf, 

Or  competition  dwell  'twixt  lip  and  smile? 

Are  we  not  part  and  parcel  of  yourselves? 

Like  strands  in  one  great  braid  we  intertwine 

And  make  the  perfect  whole.     You  could  not  be 

Unless  we  gave  you  birth :  we  are  the  soil 

From  which  you  sprang,  yet  sterile  were  that  soil 

Save  as  you  planted.     (Though  in  the  Book  we  read 

One  woman  bore  a  child  with  no  man's  aid,   ? 

We  find  no  record  of  a  man-child  bom 

Without  the  aid  of  woman !     Fatherhood 

Is  but  a  small  achievement  at  the  best, 

While  motherhood  is  heaven  and  hell.) 

This  ever-growing  argument  of  sex 

Is  most  unseemly,  and  devoid  of  sense. 

Why  waste  more  time  in  controversy,  when 

There  is  not  time  enough  for  all  of  love, 

Our  rightful  occupation  in  this  life? 

Why  prate  of  our  defects  —  of  where  we  fail, 

When  just  the  story  of  our  worth  would  need 

Eternity  for  telling;  and  our  best 

Development  comes  ever  through  your  praise, 

As  through  our  praise  you  reach  your  highest  self? 

Oh !  had  you  not  been  miser  of  your  praise 

And  let  our  virtues  be  their  own  reward, 

80 


MY  FAVORITE  POEMS 


The  old  established  order  of  the  world 

Would  never  have  been  changed.    Small  blame  is  ours 

For  this  unsexing  of  ourselves,  and  worse 

Effeminizing  of  the  male.     We  were 

Content,  sir,  till  you  starved  us,  heart  and  brain. 

All  we  have  done,  or  wise  or  otherwise, 

Traced  to  the  root,  was  done  for  love  of  you. 

Let  us  taboo  all  vain  comparisons, 

And  go  forth  as  God  meant  us,  hand  in  hand, 

Companions,  mates  and  comrades  evermore; 

Two  parts  of  one  divinely  ordained  whole. 

Verses 

A  widow  had  two  sons, 

And  one  knelt  at  her  knees, 
And  sought  to  give  her  joy 

And  toiled  to  give  her  ease; 
He  heard  his  country's  call 

And  longed  to  go,  to  die 
If  God  so  willed,  but  saw 
Her  tears  and  heard  her  sigh. 

A  widow  had  two  sons, 

One  filled  her  days  with  care 
And  creased  her  brow  and  brought 

Her  many  a  whitened  hair 
His  country  called  —  he  went. 

Nor  thought  to  say  good-by, 
And  recklessly  he  fought, 

And  died  as  heroes  die. 

81 


MY  FAVORITE  POEMS 


A  widow  had  two  sons, 

One  fell  as  heroes  fall, 
And  one  remained  and  toiled, 

And  gave  to  her  his  all. 
She  watched  "  her  hero's  "  grave 

In  dismal  days  and  fair, 
And  told  the  world  her  love, 

Her  heart   was  buried  there. 

Our  Mission 

In  the  legends  of  the  Norsemen, 

Stories  quaint  and  weird  and  wild, 
There's  a  strange  and  thrilling  story, 

Of  a  mother  and  her  child. 
And  that  child,  so  runs  the  story, 

In  those  quaint  old  Norsemen  books, 
Fell  one  day  from  dangerous  play  ground, 

Dashed  in  pieces  on  the  rocks ; 
But  with  gentle  hand  that  mother 

Gathered  every  tender  part, 
Bore  them  gently,  torn  and  bleeding, 

On  her  loving  mother  heart. 
And  within  her  humble  dwelling, 

Strong  in  faith  and  brave  of  soul, 
With  her  love-song  low  and  tender 

Rocked  and  sang  the  fragments  whole. 
Such  the  mission  of  the  Christian, 

Taught  by  Christ  so  long  ago ; 
This  the  mark  that  bids  us  stay  not, 

This  the  spirit  each  should  know : 
Rent  and  torn  by  sin  the  race  is, 

Heart  from  heart,  and  soul  from  soul ; 
This  our  task  with  Christ's  sweet  love-song, 

Join,  and  heal,  and  make  them  whole. 

—  Rev.  E.  M.  Bartleh 
82 


MY  FAVOEITE  POEMS 


Verses 

Lord  over  all !  Whose  power  the  sceptre  swayed, 
Ere  first  Creation's  wondrous  forni  was  framed, 

When  by  His  will  Divine  all  things  were  made ; 
Then,  King,  Almighty  was  His  name  proclaimed. 

When  all  shall  cease  —  the  universe  be  o'er, 
In  awful  greatness  He  alone  will  reign, 

Who  was,  Who  is,  and  Who  will  evermore 
In  glory  most  refulgent  still  remain. 

Sole  God !  unequalled  and  beyond  compare, 

Without  division  or  associate ; 
Without  commencing  date,  or  final  year, 

Omnipotent  He  reigns  in  awful  state. 

He  is  my  God  !  my  living  Savior  He ! 

My  sheltering  Rock  in  sad  misfortune's  hour ! 
My  standard,  refuge,  portion,  still  shall  be, 

My  lot's  disposer  when  I  seek  His  power. 

Into  His  hands  my  spirit  I  consign 

Whilst  wrapped  in  sleep,  that  I  again  may  wake, 
And  with  my  soul,  my  body  I  resign ; 

The  Lord's  with  me  —  no  fears  my  soul  can  shake. 


83 


MY  FAVORITE  POEMS 


THE    CREATION 

BY 

ANNIE   L.    BURTON 

The  earth,  the  firmament  on  high, 
With  all  the  blue  ethereal  sky, 
Were  made  by  God's  creative  power 
Six  thousand  years  ago  or  more. 
Man,  too,  was  formed  to  till  the  ground; 
Birds,  beasts,  and  fish  to  move  around; 
The  fish  to  swim,  the  birds  to  fly, 
And  all  to  praise  the  Love  most  high. 
This  world  is  round,  wise  men  declare, 
And  hung  on  nothing  in  the  air. 
The  moon  around  the  earth  doth  run; 

The  earth  moves  on  its  center,  too; 
The  earth  and  moon  around  the  sun 

As  wheels  and  tops  and  pulleys  do. 
Water  and  land  make  up  the  whole, 

From  East  to  West,  from  pole  to  pole. 
Vast  mountains  rear  their  lofty  heads, 

Rivers  roll  down  their  sandy  beds; 
And  all  join  in  one  grand  acclaim 

To  praise  the  Lord's  almighty  name. 

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MY  FAVORITE   HYMNS 


>    *    MY  FAVORITE    HYMNS    >    j» 


The  Ninety  and   Nine 

There  were  ninety  and  nine  that  safely  lay 

In  the  shelter  of  the  fold, 
But  one  was  out  on  the  hills  away, 

Far-off  from  the  gates  of  gold  — 
Away  on  the  mountains  lone  and  bare, 
Away  from  the  tender  Shepherd's  care. 

"  Lord,  Thou  hast  here  Thy  ninety  and  nine : 

Are  they  not  enough  for  Thee  ?  " 
But  the  Shepherd  made  answer :  "  This  of  mine 

Has  wandered  away  from  me, 
And,  although  the  road  be  rough  and  steep, 
I  go  to  the  desert  to  find  my  sheep." 

But  none  of  the  ransomed  ever  knew 

How  deep  were  the  waters  crossed; 
Nor  how  dark  was  the  night  that  the  Lord  passed  through 

Ere  he  found  His  sheep  that  was  lost. 
Out  in  the  desert  he  heard  the  cry  — 
Sick  and  helpless,  and  ready  to  die. 

"  Lord,  whence  are  those  blood-drops  all  the  way 
That  mark  out  the  mountain's  track?  " 

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MY  FAVORITE  HYMNS 


"  They  were  shed  for  one  who  had  gone  astray 

Ere  the  Shepherd  could  bring  him  back." 
"  Lord,  whence  are  Thy  hands  so  rent  and  torn  ?  " 
"  They  are  pierced  tonight  by  many  a  thorn." 

But  all  through  the  mountains,  thunder-riven, 

And  up  from  the  rocky  steep, 
There  arose  a  glad  cry  to  the  height  of  heaven, 

"  Rejoice !    I  have  found  my  sheep !  " 
And  the  angels  echoed  around  the  throne: 
"  Rejoice,  for  the  Lord  brings  back  His  own !  " 


My  Faith  looks  up  to  Thee 

My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee, 
Thou  Lamb  of  Calvary, 

Saviour   divine ! 
Now  hear  me  while  I  pray, 
Take  all  my  guilt  away, 
O,  let  me  from  this  day 

Be  wholly  Thine. 

May  Thy  rich  grace  impart 
Strength  to  my  fainting  heart, 

My  zeal  inspire; 
As  Thou  hast  died  for  me, 
O,  may  my  love  to  Thee 
Pure,  warm,  and  changeless  be, 

A  living  fire. 

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MY  FAVORITE  HYMNS 


When  ends  life's  transient  dream, 
When  death's  cold,  sullen  stream 

Shall  o'er  me  roll, 
Blest  Saviour,  then,  in  love, 
Fear  and  distrust  remove; 
0,  bear  me  safe  above, 

A  ransomed  soul. 


Jordan's  Strand 

My  days  are  gliding  swiftly  by, 

And  I,  a  pilgrim  stranger, 
Would  not  detain  them  as  they  fly, 

Those  hours  of  toil  and  danger. 

Chorus 
For,  0  we  stand  on  Jordan's  strand, 

Our  friends  are  passing  over; 
And,  just  before,  the  shining  shore 

We  may  almost  discover! 

We'll  gird  our  loins,  my  brethren  dear, 
Our  heavenly  home  discerning; 

Our  absent  Lord  has  left  us  word, 
"  Let  every  lamp  be  burning." 

Should  coming  days  be  cold  and  dark, 
We  need  not  cease  our  singing; 

That  perfect  rest  nought  can  molest, 
Where  golden  harps  are  ringing. 

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MY  FAVORITE  HYMNS 


Let  sorrow's  rudest  tempest  blow, 

Each  cord  on  earth  to  sever; 
Our  King  says,  "  Come !  "  and  there's  our  home, 

Forever,  0  forever. 


Over  the  Line 

0  tender  and  sweet  was  the  Master's  voice 
As  he  lovingly  call'd  to  me, 

"  Come  over  the  line,  it  is  only  a  step  — 
I  am  waiting  my  child,  for  thee. 

Refrain 
"  Over  the  line,"  hear  the  sweet  refrain, 

Angels  are  chanting  the  heavenly  strain : 
"  Over  the  line,"  —  Why  should  I  remain 

With  a  step  between  me  and  Jesus? 

But  my  sins  are  many,  my  faith  is  small, 
Lo !  the  answer  came  quick  and  clear; 

"  Thou  needest  not  trust  in  thyself  at  all, 
Step  over  the  line,  I  am  here." 

But  my  flesh  is  weak,  I  tearfully  said, 
And  the  way  I  cannot  see; 

1  fear  if  I  try  I  may  sadly  fail, 
And  thus  may  dishonor  Thee. 

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MY  FAVOKITE  HYMNS 


Ah,  the  world  is  cold,  and  I  cannot  go  back 

Press  forward  I  surely  must; 
I  will  place  my  hand  in  his  wounded  palm 

Step  over  the  line,  and  trust. 


O  could  I  speak  the  Matchless  Worth 

O  could  I  speak  the  matchless  worth, 
0  could  I  sound  the  glories  forth, 

Which  in  my  Saviour  shine, 
I'd  soar,  and  touch  the  heav'nly  strings, 
And  vie  with  Gabriel  while  he  sings, 

In  notes  almost  divine. 


I'd  sing  the  precious  blood  He  spilt, 
My  ransom  from  the  dreadful  guilt 

Of  sin  and  wrath  divine; 
I'd  sing  His  glorious  righteousness, 
In  which  all-perfect,  heavenly  dress 

My  soul  shall  ever  shine. 


I'd  sing  the  characters  He  bears, 
And  all  the  forms  of  love  He  wears, 

Exalted  on  His  throne; 
In  loftiest  songs  of  sweetest  praise, 
I  would  to  everlasting  days 

Make  all  His  glories  known. 

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MY  FAVOKITE  HYMNS 


Well,  the  delightful  day  will  come 
When  my  dear  Lord  will  bring  me  home, 

And  I  shall  see  His  face; 
Then  with  my  Saviour,  Brother,  Friend, 
A  blest  eternity  I'll  spend, 

Triumphant  in  His  grace. 


O  God,  beneath  Thy  Guiding  Hand 

0  God,  beneath  Thy  guiding  hand, 
Our  exiled  fathers  cross'd  the  sea; 

And  when  they  trod  the  wintry  strand, 

With  pray'r  and  psalm  they  worshipp'd  Thee. 

Thou  heard'st,  well  pleased,  the  song,  the  prayer : 
Thy  blessing  came  and  still  its  power 

Shall  onward  through  all  ages  bear 
The  memory  of  that  holy  hour. 

Laws,  freedom,  truth,  and  faith  in  God 
Came  with  those  exiles  o'er  the  waves ; 

And  where  their  pilgrim  feet  have  trod, 
The  God  they  trusted  guards  their  graves. 

And  here  Thy  name,  0  God  of  love, 

Their  children's  children  shall  adore 
Till  these  eternal  hills  remove 
And  spring  adorns  the  earth  no  more. 

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MY  FAVOEITE  HYMNS 


America 

My  country,  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty, 

Of  thee  I  sing; 
Land  where  my  fathers  died, 
Land  of  the  pilgrim's  pride, 
From  every  mountain  side 

Let  freedom  ring. 

My  native  country,  thee, 
Land  of  the  noble  free, 

Thy  name  I  love ; 
I  love  thy  rocks  and  rills, 
Thy  woods  and  templed  hills; 
My  heart  with  rapture  thrills 

Like  that  above. 

Let  music  swell  the  breeze, 
And  ring  from  all  the  trees 

Sweet  freedom's  song; 
Let  mortal  tongues  awake, 
Let  all  that  breathe  partake, 
Let    rocks   their   silence   break, 

The  sound  prolong. 

Our  fathers'  God  to  Thee, 
Author  of  liberty, 

To  Thee  we  sing; 
Long  may  our  land  be  bright 
With  freedom's  holy  light ; 
Protect  us  with  Thy  might, 

Great  God  our  King. 

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MY  FAVORITE  HYMNS 


In  the  Cross  of  Christ  I  Glory 

In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory, 

Towering  o'er  the  wrecks  of  time; 

All  the  light  of  sacred  story 
Gathers  round  its  head  sublime. 

When  the  woes  of  life  o'ertake  me, 
Hopes  deceive  and  fears  annoy, 

Never  shall  the  cross  forsake  me: 
Lo !  it  glows  with  peace  and  joy. 

When  the  sun  of  bliss  is  beaming 
Light  and  love  upon  my  way, 

From  the  cross  the  radiance  streaming, 
Add  more  luster  to  the  day. 

Bane  and  blessing,  pain  and  pleasure, 

By  the  cross  are  sanctified; 
Peace  is  there  that  knows  no  measure, 

Joys  that  through  all  time  abide. 


Guide  Me,  O  Thou  Great  Jehovah 

Guide  me,  0  Thou  great  Jehovah, 
Pilgrim  thro'  this  barren  land; 

I  am  weak,  but  Thou  art  mighty; 
Hold  me  with  Thy  pow'rful  hand; 

Bread  of  heaven, 
Feed  me  till  I  want  no  more. 

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MY  FAVOKITE  HYMNS 


Open  now  the  crystal  fountain 
Whence  the  healing  waters  flow; 

Let  the  fiery,  cloudy  pillar 

Lead  me  all  my  journey  through; 

Strong  Deliverer, 
Be  Thou  still  my  strength  and  shield. 

When  I  tread  the  verge  of  Jordan, 
Bid  my  anxious  fears  subside; 

Bear  me  through  the  swelling  current, 
Land  me  safe  on  Canaan's  side; 

Songs  of  praises 
I  will  ever  give  to  Thee. 


Christ  receiveth  Sinful  Men 

Sinners  Jesus  will  receive; 

Sound  this  word  of  grace  to  all 
Who  the  heav'nly  pathway  leave, 

All  who  linger,  all  who  fall. 


Chorus 
Sing  it  o'er  and  o'er  again : 

Christ  receiveth  sinful  men; 
Make  the  message  clear  and  plain: 

Christ  receiveth  sinful  men. 

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MY  FAVOKITE  HYMNS 


Come,  and  He  will  give  you  rest; 

Trust  Him,  for  His  word  is  plain; 
He  will  take  the  sinfulest; 

Christ  reeeiveth  sinful  men. 

Christ  reeeiveth  sinful  men, 

Even  me  with  all  my  sin; 
Purged  from  ev'ry  spot   and  stain, 

Heav'n  with  Him  I  enter  in. 


Some  Day  the  Silver  Cord  will  break 

Some  day  the  silver  cord  will  break, 
And  I  no  more  as  now  shall  sing; 

But,  0,  the  joy  when  I  shall  wake 
Within  the  palace  of  the  King! 

And  I  shall  see  Him  face  to  face, 
And  tell  the  story  —  Saved  by  grace. 

Some  day  my  earthly  house  will  fall, 
I  cannot  tell  how  soon  'twill  be, 

But  this  I  know  —  my  All  in  All 
Has  now  a  place  hi  heaven  for  me. 

Some  day;  till  then  I'll  watch  and  wait, 
My  lamp  all  trimmed  and  burning  bright, 

That  when  my  Saviour  ope's  the  gate. 
My  soul  to  Him  may  take  its  flight. 

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MY  FAVORITE  HYMNS 


.    Battle   Hymn  of  the  Republic 

Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord; 

He  is  trampling  out  the  vintage  where  the  grapes  of  wrath  are 

stored ; 
He  hath  loos'd  the  fateful  lightning  of  His  terrible  swift  sword; 
His  truth  is  marching  on. 

I  have  seen  Him  in  the  watch-fires  of  a  hundred  circling  camps; 
They  have  builded  Him  an  altar  in  the  evening  dews  and  damps; 
I  can  read  His  righteous  sentence  in  the  dim  and  flaring  lamps; 
His  day  is  marching  on. 

I  have  read  a  fiery  gospel  writ  in  burnished  rows  of  steel, 

"  As  ye  deal  with  my  contemners,  so  with  you  My  grace  shall 

deal; 
Let  the  hero  born  of  woman  crush  the  serpent  with  his  hee,l 
Since  God  is  marching  on. 

He  has  sounded  forth  the  trumpet  that  shall  never  sound  retreat, 
He  is  sifting  out  the  hearts  of  men  before  His  judgment  seat; 
0,  be  swift,  my  soul,  to  answer  Him,  be  jubilant,  my  feet! 
Our  God  is  marching  on. 

In  the  beauty  of  the  lilies  Christ  was  born  across  the  sea, 
With  a  glory  in  His  bosom  that  transfigures  you  and  me; 
As  He  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  men  free, 
While  God  is  marching  on. 

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